


Hush Little Baby

by onc3uponatime



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Crying, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Thumb-sucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 74,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onc3uponatime/pseuds/onc3uponatime
Summary: Sometimes things happen to us, and it's hard to keep living afterwards. But we can, and we do, because we will always heal. And in the meantime, while we wait for things to get easier, there's a world of healthy coping mechanisms to help us along.(a.k.a, Crowley deserves a chance to relax and let go for a while. Stories that take place some time after the events of @dreamsofspike's Repossession, though some chapters can be read independently, and those ones will be marked with (-).)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 205
Kudos: 227
Collections: Repossession and Repo-verse Works





	1. Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsofspike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Repossession](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710115) by [dreamsofspike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike). 



> This, might be out of line. Might even make some people uncomfortable. So I'll start by saying this is something very, very self indulgent for me.
> 
> I'll preface by saying that I haven't actually read Repossession, at least not most of it; I saw some fanart for it, then read the epilogue and the first two chapters and one or two spinoff works, but I think I've got the gist of what happens. And honestly, just that small stuff hurt enough to make me write this.
> 
> This fic focuses on age regression, a coping mechanism where an individual regresses to a younger state of mind. It's *not* age play, or sexual in any way, and is in fact a very healthy coping mechanism. People use it for many different reasons such as to deal with mental illness or trauma, or simply to relax. One character in this regresses to help cope with severe trauma, which will be referenced from time to time, and the other acts as their caregiver when they do. If the idea of that makes you uncomfortable then please do not read this.
> 
> So, first chapter up, here we go. If you're curious enough to read this then I hope you like it.

Aziraphale woke up, and immediately knew it was going to be a Bad Day. 

Well, not immediately. He did know when he heard soft whimpering, and turned around in bed to see Crowley sitting up, eyes full of distress as he clawed at his throat and chest. 

Aziraphale pushed himself upright, and Crowley's head turned to him in a second. The golden eyes boring into his weren't glazed over, which was a good sign, but there was still enough pain in there for him to scrunch his brow with worry. 

"Dear?" he asked, as softly as he could. The demon made a pained noise in his throat in response, his clawing at himself slowing but not ceasing. 

Aziraphale watched his husband's face, his harsh breathing and his eyes- oh, there was something in his eyes this morning. Something familiar to him by this point, something that made a feeling of hope warm him from the inside a bit. 

Gingerly, he took one of his love's hands away from his neck, and held it softly, stroking it with a thumb before he asked the question he needed to. 

"Crowley," he spoke as gently as he could. "Dearest, are you little right now?" 

Crowley stared at him wide-eyed, hand at his chest stilling. It fell to his lap and he looked away from Aziraphale to it, seeming to be thinking about what he had been asked. After a moment, he sniffled and gave a tiny, almost unnoticeable nod. 

Aziraphale did notice it though, and breathed out a small sigh of relief. Alright then, today would be a bit easier. 

He squeezed Crowley's hand and smiled at him, hoping all of his features looked as warm and gentle as they could be. "Darling, would you like a hug?" he asked. 

Crowley tilted his head to look back at him. He couldn't keep in a whimper as he gave him another nod, and Aziraphale wasted no time pulling him in as his boy started to scootch towards him. He held him close in a soft yet firm embrace, and Crowley latched onto him tightly and buried his face into Aziraphale's shoulder. He could feel him shaking now, feel when the pain became too much and he began to softly cry. Aziraphale held him closer and began to gently rock, shushing him and lightly rubbing his back as he did. 

Age regression had been an unexpected addition to their relationship. It hardly even barred thinking of; a niche little human coping mechanism, for an ageless being that had never been a child? It was ridiculous to think it would even come up. But at some point in the wake of everything that had happened, it had, and Aziraphale was so very grateful for it. Somehow, this little, insignificant-to-most-of-humanity thing had become such an important tool in Crowley's recovery. So many facets of it had made the process go smoother, made all the most horrible parts of it so much easier to handle - days like today, for instance. 

Aziraphale continued to rhythmically rub Crowley's back as he cried, keeping him grounded, reminding him to breathe. The crying was one thing this headspace tremendously helped Crowley with; even after much time and reassurance from Aziraphale, he usually still had issues with showing his emotions fully, letting his angel see the true depths of his suffering for a matter of lingering shame and fear at perceived weakness (Aziraphale would never, ever see him as anything but strong of course, and he had been told this many times, but old habits and mindsets were hard to break). But Crowley when he was small never ever had this issue; all it had taken were a few gentle reassurances and words of encouragement from Aziraphale at the beginning of this hobby, and little Crowley had let go of any want for hiding his emotions. He cried without shame whenever he needed to, and nearly always let his partner know how he was feeling, never hiding his pain when he was small (Aziraphale suspected that he couldn't, and while he would much rather it be a matter of Crowley trusting him and being comfortable enough to share all of his heart with him, it was still better than the other option of closing it off). 

"Shhhh, shhhhhh," Aziraphale soothed as he kept rocking and stroking the sweet thing in his arms. "I'm here Crowley, I'm right here, I've got you right in my arms, it's okay now."

Crowley shuddered as a particularly harsh sob went through him, and Aziraphale held him tighter through it. 

"Mommy," he sobbed into his shoulder, muffled through flesh and fabric. "Mommy…"

Crowley had decided on "mommy" closer to the start of this dynamic. Aziraphale didn't know why he had chosen this title for his caregiver over others, but he did know that the first time the demon had uttered it in reference to him, it had made his nonexistent heart completely melt in his chest (it still melted a little every time, in fact). Though truly, he did nearly know the reason, that it was likely for the aching lack of that figure over the course of Crowley's very long existence. 

(Of course, he didn't lack Her anymore. He had been embraced by Her, accepted as Her child, learned that he had never truly been thought of as less. But She was not what he needed right now, for this time he spent like this. What Crowley needed was not a Mother, but a mommy; someone who would give him the daily care and attention he needs. Someone to tickle his tummy and kiss him all over, and whisper sweet soft things to him at night until he drifted to sleep.)

Aziraphale continued to rock back and forth as his love's cries started to die off, the shaking slowing as well, until he was left just wheezing for breath and sniffling into Aziraphale's pajama top's shoulder. The fabric was now noticeably wet with tears and some snot. Aziraphale found that he didn't care one bit. 

Feeling that Crowley's pain had been lowered enough for now, he began to stroke his hair as he pulled his face away from his sleep shirt, just far enough back to hold his head gently and look into his face. It was red and wet all over, and still scrunched tight but less so before, just as his breathing was a bit less harsh. Aziraphale gave him a smile and continued soothing motions with his hands, encouraging him to not try and hide his face again. 

"There he is," he said softly. "There's my boy."

He pulled the hand that had been petting Crowley's hair back and summoned a wet washcloth into it. He reached for his demon's face to clean off the tears and mucus with it, and Crowley let him, eyelids fluttering shut as he slightly leaned into Aziraphale's gentle ministrations. 

"There we go," the angel murmured, making sure to be particularly careful around Crowley's eyes. "There we go, little one, it's okay. It's all okay now. Good boy." 

When he was satisfied that he had cleaned all of the offending substances off of his dear's face, he replaced the wet washcloth in his hand with a dry one and lightly patted his face dry. When he was done with that he let go of his partner's face completely, opting to hold both of his hands instead. 

Crowley opened his eyes again, sun-toned yellow filling up his eyes and meeting Aziraphale's stormy blues. He looked a bit better than he had when Aziraphale had first woken up, eyes less lost, breathing coming easier. His expression was still a bit distressed, and it made him look very small indeed. 

Aziraphale gave his hands a light squeeze. "Are you feeling any better, my love?" he asked. 

Crowley sniffled and nodded. Aziraphale knew it meant "yeah, but only a little," but he couldn't help but beam at him. 

"Oh, how good! What a good little boy you are." He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Crowley's forehead. He made a tiny noise in response, not pained in any way, which was very good indeed. 

He pulled back to look him in the face again, still giving him a smile. "Would you like to go downstairs and have a spot of breakfast, my dear?" he asked softly. "Something nice and scrummy to help you feel better?" 

Crowley nodded, so Aziraphale pushed the blankets off of them both and pushed himself off the side of their bed. He walked over the side where Crowley was also attempting to scoot himself off, but Aziraphale standing in front of him made him stop and look up. His caregiver looked at him warmly and held his arms out. 

"May I carry you, my sweet darling?" he implored with a gentle smile. 

Crowley looked down at his feet, but nodded and gave him a small "Mmhm."

Aziraphale moved without hesitation to maneuver his arms under Crowley, before lifting him up easily and cradling him to his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he walked out of their bedroom, towards the stairs that would lead them to the ground floor of their cottage. 

Crowley and Aziraphale's South Downs residence was a more recent development in the past few months. They still had the bookshop in London, but they both agreed that they deserved a nice retirement home after the horrifying events that had led them to retirement in the first place. Aziraphale had thought the change of scenery would be good for Crowley anyways, and he had been right; his love had made a lot of progress here, was definitely doing better both with the move and the time. 

Yes, Aziraphale thought, holding Crowley tight as he went down the stairs. Today wouldn't have to be that bad of a Bad Day. 

He made it to the floor and padded into the kitchen, already thinking of what breakfast they could have. Something light and easy to eat, preferably, he knew Crowley's stomach got a bit upset whenever he was dealing with bad memories. Something with eggs, perhaps, he considered as he set Crowley down in a seat at their dining table, Crowley liked eggs. With some tea, that would be good for them, he'd do that first. 

Crowley sniffled a little louder as Aziraphale put him in the chair, and he shushed him a bit. Signs that the crying would start up again didn't startle him; Crowley would likely spend a good deal of the day crying or close to tears (once again, much better than him closing himself off). Aziraphale only wanted to get some food in him first. 

He ruffled Crowley's hair before getting to work. He opened a cupboard and pulled out some nice lavender tea that he knew relaxed his darling. He quickly set everything up and put the kettle on to boil, then went over the fridge for the eggs. He pulled out enough for both of them, and some milk, and a pan before he realized that he hadn't consulted the other entity in the room on his choice of breakfast. He turned to him and showed him the eggs. 

"Crowley, do scrambled eggs sound alright to you?" he asked. The demon nodded. He had been watching intently enough to be able to tell what Aziraphale was preparing, but he didn't want to worry him with thinking he didn't approve. 

With his confirmation Aziraphale went back to work, mixing the eggs and hearty seasoning together and scrambling them in the pan. They finished just as the tea finished brewing, and in just a minute there were two plates of perfect scrambled eggs and two cups of steaming lavender tea in front of him. He picked up a plate and a cup and turned back to Crowley, who was still watching him closely, now lightly suckling on a few fingers. Aziraphale carefully handed him his breakfast and he stood up as he took it. 

"Why don't we eat in the sitting room dearest?" Aziraphale suggested. "You can sit on the couch and lean back on all the nice pillows."

Crowley nodded and turned to walk towards the sitting room. Aziraphale picked up his own breakfast and followed. 

He found Crowley sitting on the couch as suggested, his eggs resting on the coffee table while he sipped his tea. Aziraphale set his own eggs and tea down on the table and leaned down to kiss Crowley's lovely red head. He noticed that his partner currently looked a bit bare for a little day in just his pajamas, and he decided to fix that. 

"I'm going to go get some of your nice things, alright Crowley? You stay right here and eat your breakfast, I'll be back in a tick." 

Crowley nodded as he sipped his tea, and Aziraphale noticed that some of it was dribbling down his chin. He gingerly pushed at his hands to get him to set down his cup, and wiped at his chin with the back of his hand. 

"Would you like me to put your tea in your sippy cup, love?" Aziraphale asked gently against the side of Crowley's head as he pressed a kiss there. "Or maybe your bottle?" 

Crowley ducked his head and blushed, but still managed to mumble out, "Cup."

Feeling that he knew what he needed, Aziraphale finally left him to run upstairs and get his things. 

Back in their bedroom he quickly dressed himself in proper clothes and then pulled out a box, securely hidden from any potential prying eyes except for his and Crowley's. It contained all of his husband's "gear" that he used when he was little, staying safely out of the way until he needed it. Aziraphale opened the box and pulled out some essentials for today. The very first thing on top was always Crowley's special blanket: dark navy and covered in stars. It rarely ever left his side when he was small. Next came some stuffed animals, a couple of adult sized pacifiers and the previously mentioned sippy cup. It was black with a pattern of crows on it; Aziraphale had thought it was rather cute when he saw it in a department store he had been in. Thinking on it for a second, he also took Crowley's bottle out of the box, just in case. 

As could be determined from his gear, this particular occult entity regressed to a very, very young headspace. And didn't it make sense? After all that he'd endured and suffered through, not just over a certain set of months but for most of his life, why wouldn't he want to get the most out of this coping mechanism that he could? As such in his little time he mostly resembled a baby, and had the things to match (except for nappies. Aziraphale had suggested the possibility just once and Crowley had hidden under their bed and hissed at him all day, so he had crossed the idea out harshly in his mind as a very big no-no.)

Satisfied, Aziraphale grabbed the blanket, the sippy cup and a well-loved stuffed bear, Crowley's favorite. If he needed anything else as the day progressed he could simply miracle it downstairs. 

He went back down the stairs quickly and went over the couch where Crowley still was. He could see that he had changed himself out his pajamas into day clothes as well, though they were sensibly much more comfortable than what he normally wore, a loose black shirt and soft grey pants. 

He was also hugging himself and whining softly, head twitching to and fro as if he were rapidly looking around. Aziraphale frowned at the sight. 

"Crowley?" At the sound of his voice his love snapped his head around, the awful lost and pained look from this morning back in his eyes. Ah, the memories hadn't stayed away for very long then. As to be expected for a Bad Day. 

Aziraphale did his best to stay where he was for the moment, until he could be sure that he wouldn't scare Crowley. "Darling, stay with me now. Are you with me love?" 

And in spite of everything that must be flooding his mental state, Crowley let out a high whine and nodded. He wasn't lost, no, it was a pained look in his eyes there but it was also a present look, staring at Aziraphale in a way that he could tell Crowley was really seeing him. 

Another unexpected boon of the regression, there. Even after all this time, there were still times when Aziraphale could lose his demon to the pain and flashbacks that could overtake him, helpless to do anything until he came back to himself. It was a terrifying ordeal for both of them, but it had never happened to Crowley when he was regressed. No matter how bad the phantom pains got, how maliciously the bad memories assaulted him, little Crowley always tried his absolute hardest to stay in the present, to ground himself through sheer force of will. Aziraphale had seen him more than once while small, fighting tooth and nail in his own mind to stay with himself, with Aziraphale. And he always kept it up, fighting with determination, looking up at Aziraphale with fire-gold eyes overwhelmed and burning but _there_ , always there. 

("Don't wanna leave mommy alone," Crowley had told him once when he brought this up to him. He had shuffled closer and hugged his side. "Wanna stay with you."

Somehow his angel had managed to keep the tears gathered in his eyes from falling.)

Aziraphale slowly walked around to the front of the couch, still trying to make sure that he couldn't possibly startle Crowley. The demon watched him, doing his best to breathe (oh, Aziraphale was so proud of him all the time). The angel reached the front of the couch and sat down, meeting Crowley's eyes again when he did. No extra panicking, just wide yellow eyes still staring into his. 

"Hello baby," he said. His dear let out a pitiful whine and leaned towards him. Aziraphale couldn't hold him with his arms full, but he could lean towards him as well as he buried his face into the blanket he was holding, not crying again but letting out small whines and whimpers. Aziraphale waited until he heard the sounds start to soften before pulling Crowley's stuffed bear out from where it was nestled in his blanket. 

"Here's your friend," he murmured, holding the bear to Crowley and urging him to lift his face up. 

Crowley did lift his face up, and saw his stuffie, and let out a much more pleased sound than any of his previous ones before grabbing it and hugging it to his chest. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile brightly at the happy reaction, and took the chance to unbunch Crowley's blankie and wrap it around his shoulders. He already looked much more comfortable, and then even more so when Aziraphale wrapped an arm around him and pulled him to his side. 

"Is that a bit better, sweet thing?" he asked before giving Crowley yet another smooch on the top of his head. His baby nodded and snuggled in closer to him. Aziraphale shifted his gaze to the barely-touched plates of eggs on the coffee table, and lavender tea that was just beginning to cool. 

"Why don't you try to eat a bit more of your breakfast for me dear, and we can put something nice on the telly while you do?" he gently suggested while he rubbed Crowley's arm soothingly through his blankie. His boy nodded, oh how good he was. 

Aziraphale put a nice children's cartoon on the television as promised, letting Crowley watch it as he spoon-fed him scrambled eggs. Upon realizing that he had finished all of his eggs without fuss, Aziraphale called him a very good boy many times and kissed him even more times until Crowley had started squirming. He then settled on the couch with his own breakfast, enjoying the lovely eggs and the wonderful taste of the lavender tea. Crowley had fallen to the floor at some point and sat between his legs to watch his cartoon, occasionally drinking from his tea-filled sippy cup. 

Sometimes, a thought, a memory would hit him. Aziraphale would feel or see him tense up, or hear his breathing start to become uneven, and then he would pause the show and reach down for his love, ask him how he was feeling, if he was okay. Many times Crowley would just nod, pained look back in his eyes but subsiding after just a few minutes of him clutching onto Aziraphale's leg, of his caregiver stroking his hair or rubbing his back and shushing him gently. 

A few times he had to cry again. When this happened Aziraphale would reach down and hoist him up by his arms, settling him into his lap and holding him closely. The crying was light every time, lighter than it had been this morning. But Aziraphale would still wipe off any remaining gunk on Crowley's face afterwards and settle him back down to keep watching his show. 

A few times as the day progressed they turned off the TV for a while, and pulled out some games they had stashed underneath the couch to play. Little or not, Crowley was very good at chess (that had been played the second time they turned off the TV. Aziraphale had thought it would be better for him to play a game made for someone smaller, but Crowley simply hadn't been in the mood for Parcheesi).

They spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon like that, relaxing together in the sitting room, watching some show or playing together in between Crowley's flare ups. All in all, Aziraphale had been right, it wasn't that bad of a Bad Day. They were dealing with it, and dealing with it well, especially Crowley. Oh, Aziraphale always felt so proud of him, needed to resist the urge to tell him all the time (at least mostly. He allowed himself to let go on that matter a few times when the demon truly needed to hear it).

They had had some light soup for lunch (Crowley once again being very good and drinking all of his), and it would be suppertime soon enough. Aziraphale had seen the pain gathering in his partner's eyes again and set him down in front of a new cartoon, hoping that would sufficiently distract him before the memories got too bad. Besides, he had tax forms to fill out. Now that they had the cottage as well there were even more to fill out, so precisely that he would be audited faster than he could send them in. 

He had just finished, in fact, and was going over the information he had put down when he heard a horrible, strangled sound over to the side of where he was. He immediately dropped his pen and whipped his head around to the source, right in front of the TV. Crowley was backing away from it as well as he could while on the ground and wrapped up in his blanket. It was up over his head as well so Aziraphale couldn't see his face, but he could guess what it looked like based on the terrible broken shrieks his demon was making. 

The angel rushed over in less than a second, and Crowley's expression was even worse than he'd feared, contorted with fear and pain and eyes shot through his panic. Even with his mommy in front of him he kept making the most distressed noises as he backed up far enough to hit the coffee table. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked, trying desperately to keep the panic out of his voice, to resist reaching for the cornered creature in front of him. "Crowley, Crowley, what's wrong? Oh my baby, mommy's here, please tell me what's wrong-" 

Aziraphale heard something behind him and froze. The TV, the show he had put on for Crowley. He turned to it and actually listened, and heard a character that had a certain name. 

_That_ name. 

_Oh no._

Aziraphale snapped and the telly immediately turned off, but it was too late. The damage had been done to an already crumbling structure. Crowley had backed himself into the small space between the coffee table and an armchair, and was curled up on the floor with his blanket fully pulled over him to hide his form. The shape under the blanket was shaking violently, the only sounds coming from it ragged breathing and muffled, rapid mumbles of "no no no no no no no no…"

Aziraphale could barely keep himself together as he kneeled down closer to Crowley's height, not daring to touch the mass of starry blanket, barely managing to think of anyway he could calm his dearest down. 

"My love, my love," he tried, "It's okay, it's not real-" 

"No no nonono no no nono," Crowley kept on going, almost in time with his shaking. 

"Crowley, baby boy," Aziraphale tried again, more desperately this time, "it's just a name now, he's gone, remember? The monster's gone forever, he can't hurt you ever again, you're safe-" 

"No no no! No no no no-" Crowley cried out again and again, seemingly deaf to anything else. 

This time, Aziraphale tried a different approach. "That's right, Crowley," he said. 

"Nonononono no no no no-" 

"That's right Crowley, say it, say it as much as you want."

"No, no no no no-!" 

"Yes, Crowley, yes! Say it, you can say it now, you can say it always, say it clear and loud-" 

"No nO NO!!!" Crowley screamed a loud, proper demonic scream that shook the whole cottage and flickered the lights. But everything stayed in its place, and the lights stayed lit, and Crowley was now only sobbing under the blanket. Aziraphale watched in amazement as the bundle of soft fabric shifted and moved towards him, until he felt a head underneath it come to rest in his lap, felt hidden hands clutching at the seams of his trousers. 

"No no no…" the bundle murmured softly, sobbing and sniffling quietly where it lay. 

Aziraphale let himself lift a hand to stroke the blanket over where he knew where the lovely head of his Crowley was. "Yes, my dear, no," he whispered just loud enough for Crowley to be able to hear him under the thick fabric. "You can say no now. You can always say no, whenever and however you want. You can say it and be listened to, no matter what." He leaned down and kissed the top of the blankets resting on his thigh. "You can say it Crowley, you're safe. You can say it."

Crowley kept clinging on to Aziraphale as his muffled sobs slowly quieted. His angel kept on shushing him and rubbing where his blankie covered his head. Eventually when he had reduced his crying enough, he managed to push himself to sit up with a great deal of effort. Aziraphale steadied him as he did, longing to see his love's face but finding it looking firmly down, blankie and long copper hair covering most of it (he really ought to brush Crowley's hair later, the poor dear got so uncomfortable when it was messy). Aziraphale was patient though, and merely held him steady as he sniffled and hicupped a bit, one blankie-covered hand coming up to rub at his eyes. Aziraphale waited, and eventually those eyes just ever-so-slightly peeked through the strands of red hair to meet his own. It was enough to examine them, and while the distress and pain was still evident in them, it was so much more muted now, especially compared to how they were at the beginning of Crowley's panic attack; it's almost as if they were drained, the breaking point of the demon's suffering throughout the day finally letting all of the built-up bad feelings in him burst and drain out, like a cyst that had overstayed its welcome. 

A messy metaphor, to be sure. But it was a messy situation, and the most important thing either way that it was over. 

Aziraphale smiled at the perfect, brave creature in front of him, and felt compelled to ask him the same question he had this morning: "Darling, would you like a hug?" 

Unlike this morning, Crowley didn't hesitate with a response, instead opting to simply flop down into Aziraphale's arms. The angel pulled him close and held him closer, rocking and shushing him gently even though the tears were over. It was nice, either way, as they simply held each other for a good long while.

The two did allow themselves to let go of each other eventually , Aziraphale miracling up a washcloth to clean Crowley's face as he had many times before. This time he made sure to pepper his face with kisses as well, and tell him what a good boy he was and how proud he is of him. Crowley didn't even squirm this time. 

Aziraphale's little one was clean and dry and relaxed now, and he felt like they were alright to continue their day. He pulled away and let his boy go, before standing up and smiling down at him warmly. 

"Crowley," he said, "why don't I make us some supper to eat now, hmm?" 

"No."

Aziraphale's eyes widened at the strong response. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Crowley kept up the facade for another second before shifting uncomfortably on his spot on the floor, looking down at his knees. 

"Did'n mean it," he mumbled. "Wanted ta try it."

Aziraphale let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Oh thank goodness, he wouldn't have to skip supper. His features softened as he reached out a hand for Crowley to take, helping to lift him up to his feet. 

"That's quite alright, my dear boy," he said. "It's good to practice."

They kept holding hands as they took their time walking to the kitchen, Crowley staying practically glued to Aziraphale's side the entire time. The angel leaned just a bit closer to speak to his demon. 

"I know you had to stay out of practice for so long, my dear," he murmured, thumb stroking along Crowley's soothingly. "But I'd think it's quite like riding a bicycle, yes? You never forget."

As they crossed into the kitchen, Crowley said, "I dunno how to ride a bicycle."

"You don't?" Aziraphale frowned in confusion. "But I've seen you ride one! Not one of those ridiculous ones in the 1880s--oh no, you were asleep then weren't you- but just 30 or so years ago I caught a glimpse of you riding down the street on one- backwards, I might add, very dangerous."

Crowley shrugged. "Didn' do it again," he said, "'N I forgot."

Aziraphale regarded him for a moment, before giving him the most tender of smiles and squeezing his hand. 

"Well then," he said softly. "I suppose I can always teach you again."

He let Crowley cling to his side as he gathered up materials for making their supper, feeling himself in want of a nice simple spaghetti marinara. He knew Crowley knew that he would hold him if he could, it was just a bit too cumbersome when he really needed his hands free for cooking. 

As he turned the stove top on and put the pasta water on it to boil, he hummed softly to himself in thought. Not soft enough for his charge to not hear however, and Crowley looked up at him from where his face had been nestled against his upper arm, blinking as he waited for whatever it was Aziraphale had to say (somehow Crowley always knew when he had something to say. He wasn't sure how he did, but it was probably similar to how he always knew when Crowley had something to say). 

Aziraphale continued thinking as he turned another stovetop on, putting the skillet on and getting measurement tools out for the sauce ingredients. 

"I could teach you how to ride a bicycle," he said softly, and Crowley titled his head a bit. Aziraphale let his eyes wander from the stove for just a second to give his forehead a kiss. 

"It could be so nice, couldn't it?" he mused. "I could take you to that big store outside of the village, and buy you a big bike that you like. And we can practice right here in the driveway, or even on the road, hardly any cars come by here." 

Aziraphale looked back down at Crowley on his arm, who was looking up at him inquisitively. "What?" he asked. 

The demon nuzzled him a bit before answering. "You keep saying "bicycle…"" he said, before looking back up again to give the angel a sharp grin. "I thought it was a veloccccccipede."

"Oh hush, you little devil," Aziraphale chided. "Now help me see if these tomatoes are still fresh."

The next half hour or so was spent cooking up some lovely smelling spaghetti and sauce, which they ate at their actual dining table this time. Or well, one of them could be considered eating; in spite of taking back his earlier protest, Crowley couldn't bring himself to eat very much of his portion. It wasn't an issue though, Aziraphale wiped his mouth while praising him for eating what he could, then finished his plate himself along with his own. Crowley was content to watch him eat, like he was when he was big, happy to just be able to enjoy Aziraphale enjoying himself. 

After supper they moved back into the sitting room, but kept the telly off for the night. So they mostly sat around, played some games but Crowley got bored with them quickly. Somehow as night settled in, Aziraphale ended up lying on the floor a bit away from where his dear was also lying, still wrapped in his blanket and holding his stuffed bear. The angel didn't mind being still for a bit, content just to be in the presence of his partner. 

Eventually he heard said partner start making soft noises, and turned his head to the side to see him. Crowley was holding his stuffie in the air and quietly babbling to them, and likely to himself too. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight. 

At some point it seemed Crowley had noticed him looking, and he promptly hugged his stuffie back to his body and rolled himself to face him. Aziraphale thought he might say something, but when he opened his mouth he just started babbling incoherently again. The slightly louder volume though, and the way those honeywarm eyes were looking at him made it clear that the sounds were directed at him. 

It was no cause for concern, of course. Crowley would sometimes only be able to make noises in this state, or go nonverbal completely. But they communicated well enough without words already that there was no problem at all. 

Aziraphale gazed softly at his demon for another minute before holding out his arms to him, a wordless question. In a second Crowley was pushing himself up and crawling over to him, still continuing to babble adorably. Aziraphale's hands went under his arms when he reached him, holding gently. Crowley babbled at him some more, still nonsensical but sounding more like words now. 

"Yes, baby, come here…" he murmured, gripping Crowley under his armpits and lifting his torso up above him. The little one continued to move his lower half until he was completely on top of Aziraphale, so their legs were a bit tangled but the rest Crowley was lifted above his angel so they could both still get a good look of each other. He kept talking to Aziraphale in nonsense; luckily, Aziraphale had learned to hold a conversation, even if the sounds being made had no meaning to him. 

"Mmm, yes my dear, I know," he murmured absentmindedly. 

"Mmahhguh, agahbgamah," came the prompt response from above him. 

"Mmhm, yes yes."

"Ahguhbugabah, abahgasssssahsahhh."

Aziraphale twirled a bit of hair that fell close to his hand around his finger. "Blue dye, hmm?" 

"Agahgahba! Ababuhbaba-" 

"No baby, I don't think it would turn your hair purple."

With that Crowley laughed, a happy, messy laugh that warmed Aziraphale to his very core. He lowered Crowley just enough for him to be able to lean up and nuzzle his face. Crowley nuzzled back, his laughter having dissolved now into the sweetest little giggles. Oh, Aziraphale felt like he could face anything the world threw at him whenever he heard one of his baby's giggles. How wonderful it was, that no matter how low his boy was feeling he could still bring him little moments like this, even just for a second bring him such pure, unbridled _joy_.

Sighing, he gave Crowley a kiss on the nose before lowering him all the way down, their arms going around each other at the same time. 

"What if we go to bed early tonight, darling?" he muttered softly. "I know it's a bit earlier than normal, but I believe that we're both a bit tired."

Crowley made a noise of affirmation against him and nodded, and Aziraphale sat them both up and scooped him into his arms. It took some doing but he managed to stand up with his boy snug against him, and started to walk them back to the stairs. 

Aziraphale was in fact, a bit tired. He slept more often these days, with Crowley. Most often it was when he was regressed. Many many months ago he had remembered, you see, about a few times when he and Crowley had found their way into each other's dreams, creating visions and dreamscapes for each other. So they experimented, and he discovered that if they slept together, he could find his way into Crowley's mind and fight off the nightmares that threatened him many nights, chase them away before they could sink their terrible claws into his love. He could make him beautiful dreams as well, visions of places they had been or what he made up in his mind. A field of flowers for him to frolic in, or a starry sky to swim in. He could comfort his little one all night, even while he was sleeping (he could do this for normal Crowley too of course, and he did, but he would push Aziraphale away if he felt he was being smothered. Little Crowley had no complaints about the attention, and besides, he needed the protection more when he was small). 

Aziraphale yawned as made it to the top of the stairs and brought them both into the bathroom. Yes, he would get some sleep tonight, make a good dream for his baby. Maybe he'd bring him to that flower field again, that was a favorite. 

He heard Crowley mirror him with a cute yawn, and looked down at him. He was starting to look sleepy in his arms, and at some point his thumb had made its way into his mouth, where he was sucking on it absentmindedly. 

Aziraphale gave him a little kiss before setting him down on the toilet, checking to be sure he hadn't let go of his blankie or his teddy bear on the way up. He confirmed both of them and turned to grab a toothbrush and a bottle of toothpaste off the sink counter. Running the toothbrush under the faucet and squeezing some toothpaste on, he turned back to Crowley. 

"Open your mouth for me, dear?" he asked. Crowley complied, and Aziraphale raised the toothbrush and started to scrub gently at sharp fangs and incisors. Technically neither of them had to brush their teeth, plaque and food gunk not daring to bother them. But it was a nice routine when Crowley was small, a little thing that made him feel taken care of. 

When he was done he guided Crowley to the sink to rinse and spit, after which he promptly ran off to their bedroom. Aziraphale stayed behind to brush his own teeth, occasionally finding comfort in the routine himself. When he was satisfied he went out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. 

Crowley had changed into soft wool pajamas and was waiting for him, holding onto his blankie and sucking his thumb again. Aziraphale smiled at him and snapped his fingers to change himself into his own tartan pajamas. He normally did such a thing by hand, of course, but felt that tonight he simply could not wait to get the precious creature in front of him into his arms. 

He walked over to their bed and settled down, resting against comfortable pillows lined up on the headboard. Crowley immediately came over and got himself not onto the bed, but right onto Aziraphale's lap. The angel huffed out a laugh but still helped to maneuver the demon until he was settled comfortably on him. 

Aziraphale looked down at the beautiful form in his arms and felt love, so much love, an impossible amount filling him up completely (no, if anything had been proved by now it was that nothing was impossible; especially not his love for Crowley). He stroked the red hair spilling onto him. 

"Are you ready for us to sleep now, my love?" he whispered. 

Crowley nodded as well as he could while falling asleep. He looked so very comfortable, bundled up in his blanket and holding his stuffie loosely. Aziraphale noticed that he was still sucking his thumb, so he gently coaxed it out of his mouth and willed one of Crowley's soothers into his hand, popping that in instead. The little demon happily started sucking again, the soothing feeling and noises relaxing his expression even more. 

And it was relaxed, so much better than Aziraphale could have ever hoped for after a day like today. The lines in his face were smoothed out, and under heavily lidded eyelids Aziraphale could see honeyed eyes looking up at him with love, the same kind of impossibly filling love that he was full of as well. No pain, no fear. Just love. 

(Oh, Aziraphale was so very reminded, couldn't help but think back to the very first night they had done this, how similar the look and the feeling of him had been. They were still in the bookshop at the time, in their bed above it. The conversation had culminated after about a week of Crowley trying to hide something that he had found, that had so desperately been on his curious mind, and ended with him being cradled and bottle fed in Aziraphale's arms. He had looked so much like he did now, eyes heavy and relaxed and pure, his entire being more at peace than the angel had seen him in months. Crowley told him later, that it was as if all of the negative thoughts and memories and flashbacks that plagued him constantly had faded into the background, so far and muffled and they couldn't even reach him. It was as if he had been in a bubble, suspended and warm and completely at peace, sheltered from all that was outside. He had drifted into a dreamless sleep just like that, and Aziraphale had vowed that he would help him to achieve that state of being whenever he could.)

He rocked Crowley lightly and pressed one final kiss to his forehead. 

"Goodnight Crowley," he breathed. "I'll see you in your dreams."

With that, he let himself fully lean back against the pillows behind him, loosening his hold on Crowley just a bit. Within minutes he heard the suckling noises from his paci slow, and then his breathing along with it, until Aziraphale could only hear the steady rise and fall of his love's breath. 

He smiled, and let sleep overtake him as well. His boy was okay after today, in spite of everything, and now they would have a pleasant night of soothing dreams. 

Yes, he thought as he slowly slipped out of consciousness. Not a bad Bad Day at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll probably add more chapters to this as I write whatever, I haven't written for personal reasons in so long but I'm getting into the swing of it.
> 
> Once again, I haven't actually read Repossession, so I apologize for anything that's not accurate or doesn't fit in with that canon. In fact, if anyone notices something like that, like something that should have been triggering for one of the characters or an important detail that should be mentioned in a scene but I wouldn't know about, could you please tell me in a comment so I can add an edit? Even if I haven't read something, accuracy is very important to me.
> 
> And you know, I would actually read it myself, but I know myself and my limits, and I know I wouldn't be able to handle something like that. At the very least it would take me a long time to recover, and I have schoolwork to focus on. 
> 
> So yeah. Kudos, comment and all that, tell me if I'm missing anything please. Cheers!


	2. Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this actually got attention! Even if it's just a little it's more than I expected for this, I'm really happy~.
> 
> Y'know it's weird, I've have tons of daydreams like these stories, usually when I read something angsty. It feels good to finally write some of them down, though I don't know why this is the fic that finally made me do it. My most coherent plotline for a fic involving regression is actually based on another whump one I read, but at this point that'll probably just stay in my head.
> 
> So yeah, shorter chapter this time, still hurt/comfort. Hope anyone still paying enjoys.

Crowley had been settled in for a nap in bed. Of course, as it was now sufficiently nighttime it could be called just sleeping. There was only a low light in the room, and he was starting to stir after hours of lying still. Not anywhere near conscious, but in that floating place between sleep and waking, where you're only barely aware of your surroundings before you go right back to sleep. Crowley was on the verge of doing just that, not registering much of anything except how tired he still was. 

Then suddenly, the sound of a doorknob turning. And the slow, slight creak of the door it's attached to opening. 

Crowley was barely awake, but his body moved as if on autopilot, some deeply forced instinct making him push the covers off of himself. A chill fell over him, but did not stop him from forcing himself up, swinging his feet to the ground and standing up to face whoever had entered the door. 

The light from the hallway was spilling into the room, and illuminating the figure standing in the doorway. It was Aziraphale, who had seemingly frozen in front of Crowley. 

The light from behind was making the angel look a little fuzzy. Or was that just him? 

Aziraphale blinked slowly. "Crowley?" he asked. Yes, that was his angel's voice. Crowley couldn't see his face clearly with the back lighting, and the fact that he'd just woken up didn't help either, but he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He just stared for a moment, his mind still hazy and slow. 

"...Mommy?" When had he regressed? Was he already there before he'd fallen asleep? Crowley wasn't sure, he wasn't really sure of anything at the moment. 

There was a beat as he felt Aziraphale give him a once-over. "Darling, why aren't you wearing anything?" 

Crowley looked down at his bare form, registering for the first time since getting up that he did in fact have nothing on his body in the way of garments. That would explain the chill (and something else, so much worse). 

"Was too hot," he croaked out, awareness of his surroundings starting to come back to him. How he'd decided to nap in here earlier, the shape of everything in their room (yes it was their room, why was that detail so fuzzy earlier) and of Aziraphale; he could make out his face fully now, and watched as his expression turned into something akin to dawned-on horror. 

"Oh dear," he muttered, wringing his hands and walking swiftly into the room. He went somewhere out of the demon's frozen line of sight, but he could hear him still quietly going "oh dear oh dear, this won't do at all."

Crowley started shaking, less to do with his nakedness than the fact that he realized what was happening. "Mama-" 

"Shhhhhh," a voice hushed from behind him, right as he felt something being draped over his shoulders. Aziraphale came around to the front of him a second later, pulling whatever it was tighter around him. "There we go dear, here's your blankie, your nice soft blankie."

It _was_ Crowley's blankie. The warm, soft fabric covered up most of him, and he held it closer to himself. Aziraphale meanwhile was leaning up ever so slightly so he could flutter light kisses all over his face. 

"Let's get you downstairs and on the sofa, my sweet," he said softly, before going over to another part of the bedroom. 

Crowley shifted in place where he stood, clutching his blanket tight. The shaking had stopped, but the reasons for it were still ever-present in his mind. 

He glanced nervously at the bed. It was _their_ bed, of course it was, that much was easy to tell. It was soft and cozy and different in every way from _that_ bed. But, a bed is a bed. And sometimes the lines could become a little fuzzy, just like now, and it made Crowley very grateful that they had such a comfortable couch. 

"Dearest?" Crowley started and turned to where Aziraphale was kneeling by their dresser, the second to last drawer open in front of him. 

"Crowley, would you come pick out a set of pajamas to wear please?" he asked. His partner nodded and went over by him. Careful to be sure his blanket would still cover him, he knelt down and started rummaging through the pajamas and nightshirts and other sleep clothes in the drawer. 

His hands fell on something soft, and he pulled it out. It was a set of pajamas Aziraphale had made for him a while ago, in the early years of their relationship. They were dark and covered in his awful tartan, and Crowley could count the number of times he's worn them on one hand. But, now he found himself hugging them to his chest. 

"That one dear?" Aziraphale asked. "But you don't like tartan."

"Don't," Crowley agreed. He lifted the pajamas a bit higher to breathe in the scent of the fabric. "But, 's mommy's."

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile, and gave the top of his head a quick kiss. 

"Alright then, down we go now," he said, standing up and helping Crowley do the same. He hung onto his pajamas with one arm and his angel with the other as they headed downstairs. 

Once they made it down to the sitting room Aziraphale gently maneuvered him over to the sofa. He laid down on the soft cushions and felt a bit better when Aziraphale turned a lamp on the end table on. 

"Dear boy, would you like to put your pajamas on yourself or would you like help?" he asked. Crowley looked down at the sleep clothes in his hands, considering his options. 

"...Help," he replied in a small voice. He pulled his blanket off of himself and let it drop to the floor. 

Aziraphale came and stood over him now, and took the top from him. "Sit up a bit for me darling, would you?" he requested. Crowley complied and pushed himself up a bit. 

The angel was then leaning over him a bit and helping him slip his arms into the shirt's sleeves, then buttoning it up carefully. Technically he could miracle these right onto Crowley, or the demon could do it himself. But, during these times they found they both enjoyed doing things the human way a bit more. 

After the shirt was buttoned up, he let himself lie back down as Aziraphale took the pants from him. Leaning over him a bit more, he pushed them over his feet and started pulling them over his legs. Crowley squirmed a bit uncomfortably with the position. 

"There we go love," Aziraphale spoke to him gently from where his face was leaned over his. "Good boy Crowley, will you lift your hips a bit for me please?" 

Crowley whimpered at the request, squeezing his eyes shut as he lifted up his hips. He tried very hard to keep his breathing under control. 

"Shhhh, it's okay my love," Aziraphale soothed above him. "It's okay, it's just mommy, mommy's just helping you put your trousers on little one. Good boy, there we go, oh what a good boy you are." 

He finished pulling the fabric over Crowley's hips and pulled his hands away, and the demon let himself drop down, still breathing deeply. The chill covering him was at least gone now, replaced by soft tartan nightclothes. 

He opened his eyes and looked up at Aziraphale, still standing over him but looking at him with a gentle and slightly concerned expression. 

"Does that feel better, dear?" he asked. Crowley nodded. 

"Very good," he sighed out. His hands were tugging his waistcoat in a familiar worried gesture that Crowley didn't like seeing. 

"Crowley, I'm very sorry," Aziraphale started. "Before, my words they- I chose them poorly, I didn't mean to upset you any further-" 

"S'okay," the demon murmured. He turned onto his side, and pushed his head into the soft pillows on the sofa underneath him. "Mummy asked- mummy always asks, so s'okay." 

A second later his vision filled with Aziraphale's face again as the angel came to sit on the floor, so his head was level with Crowley's where it lay on the couch. He reached out and started gently stroking his boy's hair. 

"You're still tired, aren't you dearheart?" he murmured, gazing at Crowley lovingly. "Why don't we get you back to sleep, hmm?" 

Still stroking Crowley's hair tenderly, Aziraphale reached his other hand up and popped a paci into his mouth. He didn't suck yet, focusing on breathing around it instead. The damn things are good for that, breathing, who would've thought? 

As the angel saw him relax he also put a stuffie into his arms, which he held loosely. Then he picked Crowley's blankie off the floor and pulled it over him, covering him up snugly. 

Crowley felt much better, the cold he felt now completely gone. He felt safe and warm, and he felt his eyelids start to flutter shut as he drifted towards that wonderful headspace where nothing mattered except how small he was feeling. 

Aziraphale leaned against the sofa, watching over him, now softly stroking the side of his face as well as his hair. His soft smile made Crowley feel so warm, more so than the pajamas or his blankie or anything. 

"Goodnight Crowley," he murmured. "Sleep well, my baby. I love you very much."

As Crowley drifted off, he managed to mumble out a tiny "I 'ove 'ou too" before closing his eyes for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's another chapter! I'll write these as I get in the mood, so there's not gonna be a consistent schedule.
> 
> Once again, I ask that if anything is incorrect in regards to the canon of Repossession, please let me know! Not all of these stories are going to necessarily have to only be seen as taking place after that fic, but I'll let y'all know when a chapter is like that. Thanks for reading!


	3. Clothes (-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another short and sweet one, much more fluff than the first two. Hope y'all like it, maybe as like a happy little reading break in your day

Strange, how quickly time can pass when you're paying attention to anything else. Aziraphale had been a victim of this particular phenomenon more often than anyone could count, as he was currently as well. He had started the day reorganizing the bookshelves in the cottage (a leftover habit from efforts to keep the bookshop as disorienting as possible), but upon finding a newer novel that he had acquired recently he flipped it open. While he wasn't generally the most keen on newer works of literature, he decided to read the first few lines out of curiosity and had ended up reading for hours. Currently he was sitting in a comfortable armchair with a cup of cocoa (now cold) resting on the table beside him. 

The thing is though, no one can stay out of time forever, not even an immortal celestial being. Eventually you'll be jolted back into the awareness of the passage of time. For Aziraphale this happened when he looked up from his book for the first time in hours and noticed that the sun coming in through the windows had greatly shifted since he'd first sat down. That and when he noticed his cocoa was now very cold. 

Now normally losing himself in a book didn't bother Aziraphale, but that was accounting for the fact that he was usually alone when it happened. Now he had taken up permanent residence with a certain someone who enjoyed spending as much time with him as possible, so as he came out of this particular reading trance he could the one thing he found himself thinking was "where's Crowley?" 

Aziraphale had left Crowley upstairs in bed. He was still a bit sick from the lingering winter, and he could tell that he would probably end up regressing today, so he had left him to rest in bed a while longer while he went downstairs for breakfast. But it had been hours now, the sun had even moved past its midpoint in the sky and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of his boy. 

Setting his book down Aziraphale got up, suddenly feeling nervous. Was Crowley feeling worse again? He really hoped that wasn't the case, the poor dear felt so guilty when he was too under the weather to do much but sleep and struggle to eat (it didn't help that Aziraphale had only recently learned that he had to take care of himself too when his partner was doing badly or he'd just tire himself out). He resolved to go upstairs and check on Crowley, just in case. 

Aziraphale went up the stairs quietly, just in case his demon was still asleep. He crept towards the door of their bedroom, and upon approaching it he heard soft humming from the other side. He smiled at the sound, and opened the door slowly. 

Peeking in, he could see that Crowley was indeed awake, sitting on the floor by their dresser on his blanket, humming a song to one of his stuffies. Aziraphale only briefly registered that he had been right about him being little today, because what really caught his attention was so adorable he had to hold back a gasp. 

Crowley was wearing a pale blue sweater and pleated trousers - _his_ sweater and trousers. If the colors weren't a giveaway for that, the fact that they were several sizes too big on his partner was. He was practically buried in them, looking so warm and cozy and cute it ought to be criminal.

Aziraphale opened the door more fully, not wanting to startle Crowley but also wanting nothing more than to run over, scoop him up and smother him in kisses (the caregiver headspace really did bring all the love in him to the surface). 

Crowley finally noticed him when he opened the door enough and he let out a startled little gasp, eyes wide. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked softly, gentle smile still on his face as he stepped into the room a bit more. His little one's eyes turned away from him shyly, and he seemed to curl in on himself a bit more and pulled the stuffie he was playing with up to his face. 

"Hi 'Ziraph'l," he mumbled. 

"I was wondering where you were, dear," Aziraphale continued to speak softly, while starting to walk towards Crowley. "Are you wearing my clothes?" 

The demon hugged the stuffed animal closer to his face, but the angel could still see slit eyes looking timidly away from him, and a blush covering his cheeks. 

"Yes m'mmy," he murmured into soft fabric, looking like he wanted to disappear into the oversized clothes he was wearing. 

Aziraphale kneeled down in front of him, expression still soft. "Is there any reason for that?" 

Crowley dared to shift his gaze to his angel for just a second before looking away again. Having seen nothing in his eyes or expression to suggest he was in any kind of trouble, he took a deep breath from the soft fabric of his stuffie. 

"...I woke up earlier," he began quietly, "'n the sun was shinin' on me, 'n it felt nice, so I got warm enough t' get up."

"Mmhmm…" Aziraphale hummed, reaching out to Crowley's hand and taking a gentle hold of it, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. His partner let his hold on his stuffed animal loosen a bit, exposing more of his face. 

"An', 'n I wan'ed cuddles, so I wen' downstairs t' find you," he continued, bashfully glancing down at where their hands were joined. 

"You did?" Aziraphale asked, surprised. Was he so absorbed in his novel that he wouldn't have noticed Crowley coming down the stairs? 

"You didn't notice, you were readin'," Crowley murmured. "An' I didn't wanna bother you, so I came back up here."

At this point he blushed a bit more and his hugged his stuffed animal right back up to his face. So Aziraphale reached out his other hand to stroke the side of Crowley's face, his cheek and the soft red hair hanging by it. 

"And?" he urged gently. 

Crowley leaned into his touch. "A-and I looked for clothes, an' saw yours and they sssmelled like you an', and were s-soft an' warm like you an'-" 

Aziraphale leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Crowley's, sighing against his stuttering breaths. He continued to stroke his cheek soothingly. 

"And wearing them feels like cuddling me?" he finished gently. 

"Mhm..."

Wordlessly, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his darling. Feeling Crowley lean into him instead of objecting, he pulled his boy flush against him, rubbing his back and gently rocking them back and forth. 

"Oh my baby," he cooed. "My little star." He pressed a kiss to the top of the demon's head. "You don't ever have to worry about bothering me, dearheart. Mommy's always so happy to spend time with you, and would tell you if it was ever otherwise, I promise."

Crowley hugged him tightly and nuzzled his face into his neck. There was something about him being in Aziraphale's big clothes that made him even more lovely to hold. 

"What if we go downstairs now, hm?" the angel suggested, giving Crowley a kiss on the cheek before pulling away a bit. "I can keep reading my book, and you can sit on my lap so I can cuddle you during."

Crowley nodded, so Aziraphale let go of him and got up. Before he could reach back down to pick his darling back up, he made a little noise and lifted the sleeves of his sweater up in a question. 

"Of course you can keep those on dear," Aziraphale assured. He reached down and pinched Crowley's cheek. "In fact I'd prefer it, you look so incredibly adorable."

The demon let out a high-pitched happy noises as he was scooped up into strong arms, nuzzling his face into a warm chest as he was carried downstairs. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the armchair, Aziraphale resuming his reading and Crowley cuddled up in his lap, as promised. He held the angel's cocoa too now, keeping it warm through demonic energy, letting his caregiver drink whenever he wanted and occasionally taking a sip for himself. 

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley a while later, who looked so very cozy settled in his lap and bundled in his clothes. Golden eyes flickered up to his, and he was given a small smile, which he returned. 

This was something he wouldn't mind getting lost in. 


	4. Worse Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the brief break from the angst, 'cause it's back. Nothing too intense, but still

It was a Bad Day again- no! It could hardly even be called that at this point! In Aziraphale's mind the only title appropriate for it was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. 

For you see, Crowley, the love of his life, his pride and joy, the only person in the universe who could have ever convinced him to give Netflix a chance, would not stop crying. 

It had started and escalated into those horrible wailing sobs that made Aziraphale's heart clench, and had just never died down. For the past few hours his demon had been bawling in a nonstop streak that would impress even the most colicky babies. Everytime it started to seem like he could begin to calm down, a flashback or a wave of phantom pain would crash into him and he'd burst into tears all over again. 

Aziraphale has tried everything he can think of to help; he put Crowley in a comfortable onesie covered in colorful stars. He surrounded him with all of his stuffies more than once. He tried warming up his blanket, giving him a paci, reading to him, and everything else he could think that would make Crowley feel better or at least distract him and ground him, and absolutely none of it has worked. Even all the kisses and hugs he's given him haven't done much (though it admittedly hasn't been too much of that; when Crowley was in this kind of a state physical contact needed to be given carefully). 

The angel felt himself starting to feel seriously drained, which would absolutely not do at all. If he let himself get exhausted while taking care of his love, they would just end up hurting and tiring each other out (Aziraphale had snapped at Crowley when he was small only once and he still hasn't forgiven himself). What was also simply unacceptable was the fact that he hadn't been able to get Crowley to drink anything all day, the poor dear must be so dehydrated from all the tears. No, Aziraphale absolutely had to get him to stop crying as soon as possible. 

So, he's resorted to finding ideas from the last source he'd ever normally think to look: the internet. 

He stood nearby where Crowley was currently sobbing into his blankie on the floor, scrolling through the Google results on a mobile phone for "how to stop a baby from crying".

Now of course, this wasn't a search that would yield quite what he was looking for, and he knew that. It would be better to look into results for age regressors specifically, but he would have to go looking for specific blogs for that and it really was just quite a hassle. And how different could the idea be, honestly? 

As he scrolled through he saw many different articles full of advice and tricks on how to calm down crying babies (clever humans were always discovering new things and sharing them with each other), and he found one result that kept popping up. It was apparently a way to instantly stop a baby's crying, used by actual doctors. Crowley had taught him about clickbait of course, but he was curious and desperate enough to click on one of the videos. 

The doctor in the video certainly did look and sound very professional, despite holding a screaming infant. Aziraphale watched closely as he explained and demonstrated the process. 

_Alright then, fold their arms over their chest he says._ That does seem to make sense for helping the poor dear feel secure. 

_Then grab them by the…_ Aziraphale grimaced. Oh no, Crowley wouldn't like that at all. Well, he supposed he could improvise somehow. 

The doctor angled the baby at 45 degrees, he said, and began to rock and bounce it lightly. Aziraphale watched in amazement as the infant's wails immediately started to die off, its little face relaxing as its crying stopped. 

Oh, what a wonderful trick! Humans really did discover the most amazing things. He'd give it a try right away. 

Putting the mobile down, he went over to where Crowley was and knelt down next to him. The poor thing had completely let go of his blanket, hands instead trying to rub at his eyes as he continued to wail. His face was red and wet all over, and Aziraphale could tell that he was getting frustrated with himself as well, which wouldn't do at all. 

"Shhhh, it's alright Crowley," he whispered soothingly, gently grabbing his demon's hands and pulling them away from his face. "It's all okay, fold your arms right over here, just like this, there's a dear."

Once he had gotten Crowley's arms crossed over his chest he held one of his arms there to keep them secure. Thinking of how to accomplish the rest of the hold, he decided to just wrap his other arm low around Crowley's hips. With a deep breath, Aziraphale got to his feet and lifted his little up with him. 

Crowley let out a surprised yelp as he was hoisted into the air. The angel did his best to keep him suspended as he shifted him to the angle the doctor had held the baby in the video. The position was quite awkward, probably not helped by the fact that the baby he was attempting this with had the body of a grown man. But after somehow getting his hold more secure, he started to gently rock Crowley back and forth. 

And to Aziraphale's wonderment, it actually worked. He couldn't see Crowley's face for how he was holding him, but he heard the wailing stop almost immediately, then the sobs quickly after until all he could hear from his boy was quiet sniffling. 

The angel could light up a city with how happy he felt, how relieved. He couldn't believe this had actually done the trick. He's done so many miracles throughout his long life, and none could compare to this, he was absolutely sure of that. His amazement and utter joy lasted until he heard a low, raw voice speak from underneath him. 

"Mommy, what are you _doing_?" 

He looked down at the spindly thing in his arms. He still couldn't see his little one's face, but from the way his head was angled now he could tell he was trying to look up at him. 

All of a sudden Aziraphale realized that he hadn't given any indication as to what he was doing, and that the way he was holding Crowley was really quite ridiculous, and he felt his face suddenly heat up (it was always a little jarring when this sort of thing happened, him being abruptly reminded that as different as this headspace was for Crowley, he was still _Crowley,_ as it were).

"Oh, well I, that," he stammered. "That is, er, I- well I watched this video, I suppose, you see, and-" 

Crowley squirmed in his grasp. "Put me down," he whined. 

Aziraphale quickly lowered him to the ground again and set him down, fumbling out apologies. Crowley sat himself up and lifted his head up to his angel. His face was still flushed and tearwet, but smoothed out considerably compared to how it's been the rest of the day, his breathing already much smoother as well. He was looking up at Aziraphale with his lips curved into a pout and his honeyed eyes large. 

Okay, so it had been confusion and mild irritation that had gotten him to stop crying instead of the hold itself. The end result was what was important, and really, had he truly warranted such an expression? 

"Oh my dear, I do apologize for manhandling you without warning," the angel said while wringing his hands. "But there's really no need for that face."

Crowley raised up to his knees and shuffled over to Aziraphale, latching onto his leg and burying his face into the fabric of his trousers. When he lifted his head up to him a second later he was pouting even harder, his eyes as big as he could make them and still shiny from tears. 

"Wh- N-now, young fiend!" Aziraphale stuttered. "You know very well that when you make that face at me I have no choice but to do whatever you want!" 

Even if the demon didn't usually take advantage of that fact, it was undoubtedly true. Where Aziraphale usually had Crowley wrapped around his little finger, during little time the dynamic reversed and it was absolutely Aziraphale wrapped around Crowley's. 

His dear boy nuzzled his leg, and yes, he was sure that if Crowley asked him in that moment to go chisel down a mountain to nothing he would grab a pickaxe and get to work. 

Though at once, he realized what he could actually do for his boy now. He had stopped crying; he could finally try to get some fluids in him. 

Aziraphale reached down and tousled loose red curls. "Darling," he cooed, "would you like something to drink? You must be awfully parched little one, you can have anything you like."

Crowley regarded him for another second before burying his face back into his trouser leg and humming out, "Teeeeeeaaaa."

Aziraphale smiled and bade him to let go of his leg so that he could walk to the kitchen. He heard movement behind him, and when he looked back he saw the demon shuffling on his knees after him. 

"Oh my dear, that can't be comfortable," he said. 

Crowley stopped, then gazed down at his knees. He seemed to think for a bit before snapping his fingers, and Aziraphale saw throw pillows from the sofa appear tied with string to each knee. He let out a satisfied noise and started coming towards him again. With the pillows he had to lift his knees a bit to shuffle forward, making his movements look even more clumsy and adorable. The angel patted his head when he reached him. 

"Oh how clever!" he praised. "As to be expected from my little boy." Crowley cooed up at him and continued to follow him into the kitchen. 

Aziraphale let the demon hang onto his leg as he made the tea, and even when he served the tea, handing a cup down to him. He was very pleased to see Crowley drink it all. 

He fully expected him to take a nap after tea time, or to start crying again, and to Aziraphale's surprise he did neither. In fact the rest of the day went without a hint of either option from the demon. 

It wasn't until late at night that both reared their heads at the same time, and Crowley ended up sobbing just as inconsolably as before. From the same terrors that had plagued him during the day yes, but also the ones that could threaten him in the night. How frustrating, to be so tired but too scared to sleep. So Aziraphale turned to the internet again, but this time managed to find more sensible advice.

"Let's see…" he muttered to himself, trying to remember the key points he'd read about as he sat down in front of his demon, holding his blanket. 

"Swaddling was the first bit…" The angel reached out and wrapped the weeping thing in front of him up in the blanket, bundling him snugly. With a silent ask for permission he pulled him against his chest. 

"Then we let him rest on his side," he murmured softly, bringing Crowley down with him gently to lie down. They weren't in bed but on the floor of their bedroom, resting on a soft carpet topped with pillows. No particular reason for it, other than they were both too tired to get up at this point. 

Aziraphale held his love close against him, stroking his hair and whispering soothing things to him as he tried to think of the next point. 

"Oh yes! White noise." With a snap the soft pitter-patter sound of rain started up from outside the window. Crowley's crying softened a bit at the sound, but didn't stop just yet. 

Aziraphale kissed the side of his head. "Some nice things, now…" Another snap and he had a soother and some stuffed animals in his grasp. He arranged the stuffies around Crowley (good for fighting off nightmares, they are) and handed him the pacifier. He didn't put it in his mouth but he did grip it in one fist, maybe later then. Figuring he could add one final touch to their arrangement, he projected his wings out into the physical plane and wrapped them around the mewling boy in his arms. 

The sobs finally started to die off, as Crowley nuzzled against his chest and soft white feathers. In a minute the only sounds coming from him were soft whimpers and ragged breathing. 

Aziraphale kissed him some more, and sang a soft lullaby to him in a long forgotten language. Soon the breathing of both beings evened out as they went to join each other in their dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That way to get a baby to stop crying instantly is actually a real thing! Go look it up if you're interested, I have no idea why but it does actually work.


	5. Throw Me (-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some fluff again after last chapter.

Aziraphale was reading again. But not a book, as was normally the case. No, as it was he was actually reading an article on Crowley's laptop. Luddite though he was committed to being, he had to admit it was getting harder to resist at least peeking at all the information present on the internet. It was certainly useful for keeping up to date with current events, or for acquiring information in an emergency ("Dear Google, how do I get a wine stain out of a tweed waistcoat? Thank you Google"). Make no mistake, he still preferred good old fashioned books, but sometimes he would end up "deep-diving," as Crowley had called it. Into the vast world wide web he would go, clicking result after interesting result until he couldn't remember how he'd ended up on the page he was visiting. That was what was happening now in fact, and Aziraphale knew that, but he was too absorbed in the bit he was reading to get himself to stop. 

"Zi'." He looked up from the laptop at the little sound and saw Crowley standing in front of him. He was dressed in very casual clothes and was holding his blanket, so the angel assumed he was regressed. He was also holding a mug of something steaming, and he held it out to him. 

Aziraphale blinked, then accepted the mug. "For me?" he asked, smiling brightly at the sight of hot cocoa filling it. He took a quick sip and sighed at the rich taste. His darling had made it perfect, just the way he liked it. 

Beaming up at Crowley, he reached out and took one of his thin hands in his own, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

"Oh, aren't you a little angel," he cooed warmly. He delighted in the blush that rose up to Crowley's face. 

"'M not!" the demon whined indignantly. 

"Well, perhaps not entirely." Aziraphale was still smiling up at him as he nuzzled his hand. "But at the very least, you're _my_ little angel."

Recent revelations on the true nature of the difference between demons and angels aside, or lack thereof rather, his statement stood no matter what. No limits could be put on his baby; precious demon or sweet angel, what mattered is that Aziraphale loved him so much. 

He released Crowley's hand and took another deep sip of his cocoa. "Thank you very much, dear," he sighed with appreciation. 

Instead of wandering off, his boy plopped himself down on the couch next to him, leaning against his side. The angel welcomed the company, and would've put his arm around him if he didn't need at least one hand free to scroll through the article on the laptop. Crowley snuggled closer and peered at the screen. 

"What'cha readin'?" he asked. 

"Oh, it's actually very fascinating," Aziraphale replied. "You see- well I'm sure you already know, you do love children so much, but have you ever noticed that the young ones almost seem to enjoy being manhandled by their caretakers, swung around and thrown about and whatnot?" 

"Mmhmmmm," Crowley hummed, leaning even more heavily against him. 

"Well, according to this bit of testing and research done, it turns out that being tossed around like a sack is good for human children! It helps them develop their internal sense of balance, it says, almost like calibrating a navigation system-" 

He paused as he felt the weight on his arm suddenly vanish. He turned his head and saw his little sitting upright, a twinkle in his eyes and a bright grin on his face. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. 

"What is it darling?" 

"Throw me."

The angel was taken aback. "I'm sorry, what?" 

Crowley's grin widened as he clutched onto his caregiver's arm and bounced in his seat. "Throw me!" he repeated energetically. 

Aziraphale was struggling to rein in his common sense with the cuteness Crowley was exhibiting. A challenge, to be sure. 

He stroked one of his arms. "You want me to throw you?" he asked. 

"Yeah!" the demon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Like the kids in that silly article! Calibrate my GPS, or whatever."

Aziraphale's brow creased as he gave the odd request some thought. "I don't know love," he mulled, "I don't know how safe that would be…"

"But I wanna!" the demon whined, latching onto his arm again. "Please mummy, please please please please please-" 

"Alright alright!" Aziraphale laughed, pressing a kiss against Crowley's temple. "Since you asked so politely, we'll go upstairs and try throwing you onto the bed."

The demon let out a happy squeal and gave him a hug. The angel hugged him back, then used the hold to scoop him up and carry him to the stairs. 

As they went up to their bedroom his smile dampened a bit, remembering what he had agreed to do far too easily. Oh well, he mused, better to have Crowley ask for what he wants and get it than otherwise. He was still teaching him that, asking for what he wanted, and though he was a fast learner a little touch-up lesson never hurt anyone. 

Aziraphale went into the bedroom, and Crowley was wiggling excitedly in his grasp. He bounced him a bit and kissed his head to settle him. 

"Alright now dear, I won't throw you very far," he said, stepping towards the bed. "Just right onto the bed. On three, yes?" 

His dear nodded, grinning and giggling in anticipation. Aziraphale swung him lightly as he began to count down. 

"Here we go," he said while tensing the muscles in his arms. "One, two, three!" 

On three he gave a final swing and let go, tossing Crowley up a bit into the air. The demon shrieked in delight as he flew a few feet through the air and landed in the center of the bed. It bounced as he fell and he just laid there, laughing loudly. 

Aziraphale came closer to the bed and looked down at the happy thing spread out on the covers. "As fun as you hoped?" he asked. 

Crowley sat up, grinning ear to ear. He clapped his hands and giggled like mad. "Again, again!" he laughed. 

The angel regarded him for a second, seeing how absolutely joyful his love looked, and felt his heart warm up. "You want to be thrown again?" he asked. 

"Yes, yessss!" 

Crowley let out a happy noise as Aziraphale picked him up again. He walked a bit farther away from the bed than they had been before, and prepared to throw Crowley again. 

"One," he started with a swing, "two, three!" 

His charge screeched with laughter again as he was thrown onto a bed a second time, this time in the air just a bit longer. 

"Again!" he giggled out, and the angel found that he couldn't stop smiling. 

They passed a great deal of time just doing that, Aziraphale tossing Crowley in lots of different ways. At some point the demon became bored with the bed and convinced his partner to go downstairs again and throw him on the couch instead. The angel was reluctant at first but eventually conceded, with just a bit of angelic will making the couch always big enough to catch Crowley. 

Eventually on top of throwing him, Aziraphale was doing things like spinning his boy around too, which he enjoyed immensely. He even spun him upside down at one point, and Crowley laughed all the while.

So much fun was tiring, even for superpowerful beings, so at some point Aziraphale sat down with his dear still in his arms. 

"That's enough for now, I think," he muttered, nuzzling Crowley's cheek. The demon was still giggling lightly, and nodded. The angel let him go from the hug and gazed warmly at him as he sat up in his lap. 

"What should we do now, hmm?" he asked. Crowley seemed to think for a few seconds. Then a small grin appeared on his face and he pitched his hips forward, grinding against the angel. 

Aziraphale's face fell in an instant. He grabbed the demon by his arms and pushed him back. "No Crowley," he spoke firmly. "You know we can't do that when you're little." 

He didn't have many rules for Crowley when he was small, but this was one restriction he absolutely would not budge on. If he had learned anything during his research of age regression, it was that he and his husband's sex life had to be kept completely separate from it. Truthfully, even if he hadn't read that that was necessary he would have likely kept that from happening anyways; someone who was in the mental state of a child shouldn't have to worry about such things (especially his love, who needed this reprieve from the topic and the pain it could bring while he was regressed). 

"But- but I feel so good right now," Crowley whined ("good" for him meaning that his mind currently wasn't forcing any unpleasant thoughts or memories on him). Aziraphale sighed and pulled him back into a hug. 

"Then we'll just have to keep you feeling good until you're big again," he murmured, stroking Crowley's hair. He gave him another unhappy keen. 

"Come on now," the angel chirped. "There must be something else you want to do. Something fun perhaps?"

The demon was silent for a few minutes, and Aziraphale could tell he was thinking good and hard. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers, and his laptop appeared in front of them. 

Crowley settled properly into his lap before he could ask, sitting so they were both facing the screen, which was now opened up to YouTube. 

"Ah yes," Aziraphale said as the creature in his arms willed the most recent video from a popular user on. "You like starting arguments in the comments of these, don't you?" 

Crowley wiggled in his lap. "I dooooo," he replied. 

His angel kissed his tattoo. "After we watch this, then."

So they had fun for the rest of the day. How nice, they thought, to finally have the freedom to do so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't find the actual article I read, but the fact about throwing kids developing their sense of balance is absolutely true. https://extension.psu.edu/programs/betterkidcare/news/2017/spinning  
> This doesn't mention tossing children, but I absolutely swear that's part of it too.  
> (Also don't suppose anyone caught that reference to Aziraphale finally calling Crowley *his* angel in the epilogue of Repossessed?)


	6. Dining (-?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to write. The next one will be super angsty so enjoy this softer content while you can.
> 
> Also I wasn't sure if I could put a (-) next to this chapter? There's a small reference to Crowley having a flashback to his abuse, but now that I'm reading it again it could be because of any trauma really, so I guess it's fine.

Crowley and Aziraphale were back in London for a few days. As charming as the countryside was, you can't spend a few centuries living somewhere and not grow attached. So they came back every now and then, saw how things were, checked up on the bookshop (which had no less business than it did before); and for Aziraphale's satisfaction, made sure to visit some of their favorite restaurants. 

They were walking to one right now in fact, the early evening air just the right temperature for them to have decided to leave the Bentley in front of the bookshop. They had spent the day there, simply relaxing in each other's company and the familiar environment, Aziraphale chatting up the occasional humans who came to see them while they were back in the city (customers of course were locked out with a closed sign, but not old friends). Crowley had had a bit of a flashback earlier, but he recovered quickly and the rest of the afternoon had been relatively calm. 

Now they took their time as they passed through familiar streets, walking hand in hand towards a nice steakhouse. A table was miraculously open, the one they always sat at here; on the side near the back, nice and dark and private. A waiter brought them menus and then it was just them, intimate as anything. 

"Should I expect you to have any food tonight, dear, or will you be saving your appetite for all of the wine again?" Aziraphale quipped, a corner of his mouth raised as he looked over his menu. 

Crowley grinned, not even bothering to look at his menu as he gazed at Aziraphale from behind his sunglasses. 

"I dunno, angel," he drawled. "Worried there won't be any left for you?" 

"Oh, hardly," Aziraphale said. "There's always more wine to be had, darling. I only hope to keep you sober enough for more after this, once we're back at the bookshop."

Crowley let his head rest on one arm, and his other reached out for Aziraphale. The angel set down his menu so that he could take his hand and give it a squeeze. 

"Well then, maybe I'll abstain after all," he purred. "Keep my appetite up for _other_ things."

"Oh, you naughty old serpent." Aziraphale gave a fond smile that matched the demon's own. He rubbed his hand with his thumb and peered at his menu again. 

"Speaking of which, will you be getting the oysters?" Crowley asked, seeming like a liquid with how he sank even more onto the table and back in his chair (how nice it was, to see him so relaxed). 

"Oh, perhaps," Aziraphale replied, checking for them on the menu. "I do love the oysters here, but I'd like to know if you'll share with me first, dear boy."

The angel he might've seen Crowley's cheekbones pinken lightly, as he sat up a bit and finally let go of his hand. "I don't know," he said with a little flourish. "Might eat something tonight. They've got that big steak, yeah? Could get that and I'll have some."

Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised. Crowley was a bit more inclined to eating with him in recent years, but he still kept to alcohol and a few curious nibbles more often than not when they ate out. Eating just wasn't a hobby he was particularly interested in. 

Well, unless he was in a certain headspace. But that hardly barred thinking about right now. 

The waiter came back for their drink orders, and Aziraphale ordered the Malbec. They looked to Crowley, who had slumped over a bit again, waiting for him to say something. After a few seconds had passed the demon noticed both parties staring at him, and he actually blushed. 

"Ah, same as him," he muttered, looking away under his shades. The waiter seemed satisfied and walked away, and Aziraphale regarded his partner curiously. He knew Crowley's behavior would come off as aloofness to anyone else, but he knew his husband better than anyone else - he was being _shy._

This made him wonder; Crowley could be shy, he knew, but he never made it obvious. Would usually rather splutter and rage and bluff his way through any embarrassment than simply go quiet. No, he didn't become shy like this, unless-

Oh. 

He'd had that panic attack earlier, yes (a book had fallen on his face, would have been quite funny if it hadn't set him off), but Aziraphale thought he had seemed right as rain afterwards. But had he been, exactly? Could he have fallen into a different mindset for comfort, without him noticing? 

He knew Crowley could hide it when he was in little space, put up an act of being big very well if he had to go out in public during. But he had tells that Aziraphale knew, and as he thought back to earlier he realized there had been quite a few of them: the slouchiness, how Crowley had reached his thumb up to his mouth a few times only to bite the nail, how he had reacted when he had called him "dear boy"-

The angel looked at Crowley, who was looking at his menu instead of him and fidgeting just a bit. He didn't usually hide his regression from him - wouldn't be much point to him being his caregiver if he did - but it had happened a few times, and he felt he ought to be sure. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale spoke. The demon looked up at him, and if only those blasted sunglasses weren't in the way, he could get a better read on his expression. But he'd make do for now, scootching his chair a little closer to Crowley's. 

"Dearest," he started softly. They weren't particularly close to any other occupied tables, but he glanced around quickly just to be sure no one was listening. 

"Yeah, angel?" Crowley tilted his head at him. 

"Are you- well, that is to say-" Aziraphale leaned forward and lowered his voice a bit more. "You're not…regressed right now, are you?" 

"What?!" Crowley squawked out. "Wh- no! Of course not Aziraphale, of course I'm not- m'not, why would you think I am?" 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. If he had had suspicions before, Crowley's quiet spluttering now did nothing to discourage them. 

"I was just wondering dear," he said. "Just in case you might be, I wanted to ask. You did have a bit of a fright earlier, and-" 

"What, that? Pssssh." His husband was gesticulating with a bit of nervous energy now. "That was nothing, c'mon angel, I'm absolutely fine. We're somewhere nice together, don't need anything else to be alright."

Conversation successfully deflected, the demon picked up his menu and opened it, as if he actually intended to read it instead of just using it to shield his face. 

It occurred to Aziraphale then, that Crowley might not actually have known if he was small or not. He knew his regression was involuntary, so it's not like he had to make the conscious effort to go into his little headspace. And, more importantly at the moment, it meant that if he was in it right now he couldn't just will himself out of it. 

"So, er- starting with the oysters then?" Crowley piped up from behind his menu. Aziraphale tried to make out anything behind it, and those sunglasses, but couldn't determine anything about how his partner was feeling at the moment. 

"I don't think so, actually," he answered. "I'm rather peckish tonight, dear, I believe I'd like to start right with the main course."

"Alright," Crowley nodded, then went back to "looking" at his menu (really, he must be small if he didn't realize how silly that was, he wasn't the one who ordered for them).

Their waiter soon came back with their wine, then asked what they would be eating. Aziraphale tried not to look at any of the delicious appetizers listed on the menu; there were more important things to worry about here. He ordered the porterhouse steak, like Crowley suggested, and looked over the side dishes. Normally he'd like a nice order of mash with gravy to go with a steak, or creamed spinach. But as he looked over the options, he knew what he ought to get. 

"-And the triple cooked chips, please," he told the waiter as he handed them the menus. They thanked him and walked off. He looked back to Crowley, who was raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Chips?" he enquired. "Not usually on your palate, is it?" 

"Well, I'm a bit in the mood for some." Aziraphale wiggled a little in his seat, hoping Crowley wasn't catching onto what he was doing. "And the triple cooked ones are very good here."

His husband shrugged. "Whatever you want, angel."

Oh, but if only he knew that it wasn't about what _Aziraphale_ wanted. Crowley didn't care about chips anymore than he cared about any other food, usually - except, of course, for the times when he was in a headspace where the greasy messiness of good chips delighted him to no end. 

Aziraphale had a plan; he had to determine for sure if Crowley was in fact regressed. And if he was, he had to get him to admit it. Luckily, he knew all the best ways to help his boy feel small. 

They chatted just a bit while they waited for the food, but both entities were thoroughly distracted, so they mostly kept quiet. Now that the menus were gone Crowley kept his gaze down by tapping at something on his phone. Aziraphale just waited patiently, knowing their food had to come before he could do anything. 

When the waiter finally came back they set the steak down between them, large and juicy and smelling delicious, and the chips, which looked delightfully crispy. Aziraphale thanked the waiter as they left, and pulled his napkin down to cover his lap. 

Right then, time to start. He looked up at Crowley, who seemed to be watching the food with mild interest. The angel reached over the food on the table carefully, picked up Crowley's own napkin and covered his lap with it. 

"Eh?" The demon was, understandably, looking at him with confusion. 

"You said you might eat tonight dear," Aziraphale said. "It's important to keep yourself clean from any drippings or crumbs."

Crowley turned his head away from him, raising his wine glass to his lips. "Whatever," he mumbled as he sipped. 

A successful gathering of evidence, Aziraphale felt. He knew if Crowley was little, he'd react to being doted on, given just a little reminder to be neat like that. And it wasn't anything obvious, but his face had gotten pinker again, and Aziraphale felt more of that familiar shyness from him. Not to mention, it looked as though he may not have actually drunk any of the wine he raiser to his lips after all (alcohol wasn't a hard restriction during Crowley's little time, but that was only because Aziraphale had found it could help him after a panic attack to put just a bit of rum in his bottle). 

The information so far definitely pointed to him being regressed, but the chance still remained that it was just a day where being in public made him nervous. Aziraphale needed to get more proof, just to be sure. 

He pulled the plate of steak towards himself and inhaled the delicious meaty scent. No use letting this go to waste in his plan. The angel picked up his knife and fork and began to cut a piece out of the steak. 

He glanced up at Crowley, who was either watching him, or watching the chips, which had been conveniently placed right in front of him. Something he normally had no interest in, Aziraphale would soon see how he felt about them tonight. 

He raised the piece of steak he had cut to his lips and bit it from the fork. He moaned audibly as the juicy flavors enveloped his taste buds, making sure to very clearly close his eyes as he did. 

"Ohh, it's scrumptious," he sighed, articulating a bit louder than he normally did, loud enough that someone might think he wouldn't hear any small noises. 

And normally he wouldn't, but at the moment he was sure to keep his ears open, paying careful attention to anything he could hear. Just like that, he did hear something from across the table; the barely perceptible crinkle of paper, followed by the softest noises of chewing. 

Aziraphale smiled wide around his steak. Bingo. 

When he opened his eyes again he made sure to give Crowley a fond look, nothing the demon wouldn't find unusual. He was resting on his elbow and holding his glass, still not drinking. There was no evidence that he was chewing anymore, but Aziraphale noticed a chip from the top of the pile had mysteriously disappeared. 

He repeated the process many times, enjoying the porterhouse immensely and listening to Crowley sneak a chip whenever he thought he wouldn't notice. 

Eventually he didn't hear anything anymore, and when he checked the dish of chips he saw they had stopped vanishing. He supposed Crowley had figured that by that point their absence would become too obvious to the angel, not knowing he'd been paying attention this whole time. 

Alright then, time for the final test. 

Aziraphale carefully cut another piece of steak, but smaller than he usually cut. And instead of lifting the fork to his own mouth, he reached it over to Crowley, who looked up in surprise. 

"Oh dear, won't you have a taste?" he implored gently. "It really is delicious, I think you'll love it."

Crowley regarded him for a moment, and the angel still couldn't read too well behind his shades but he could feel something in him slipping. 

"Nn, alright," he mumbled, leaning forward a bit. Aziraphale held the small bit of meat up to his lips and delicately pushed it forward, watching as Crowley slowly pulled it into his mouth. He leaned back and chewed, expression still carefully blank. 

"S'good," he went eventually, just a bit too soft, ears just a bit too pink. 

"Oh good," Aziraphale smiled, before diving back in for himself. But then he cut another little piece for Crowley, and another, alternating between feeding himself and his partner. And the demon didn't even object, just indulged him every time the fork was lifted for him, staying carefully quiet and getting more and more fidgety. 

There was no doubt in Aziraphale's mind now; Crowley was certainly regressed, at least a little bit. Everything he had observed, topped off with how he was getting with being fed all but confirmed it for him. If there was one thing he was certain that Crowley loved while little, after all, it was Aziraphale cutting his food up into little pieces for him.

Now that he was sure, it was time to get his husband to be honest with him. He cut another piece of steak that was just a bit bigger, and rubbed it all in the juices on the plate before presenting it to Crowley. As expected, when he bit it off the fork some juice ran down his chin. 

"Oh dear," Aziraphale murmured, sitting up so he could move his chair. He pushed it over to where Crowley was sitting so they were no longer across from each other, but rather about next to each other. "Hang on my love, let me get that for you."

He took Crowley's napkin from his lap, and used it to dab gently at the mess on his chin. He was close enough to see that his boy's eyes were wide behind his sunglasses, to feel his soft breathing become a bit uneven, to hear him let out a sound that sounded like a tiny whimper. 

Aziraphale didn't call any attention to the noise, instead setting the napkin down and turning pointedly to look at their side order. 

"Did you like the chips, darling?" he asked, still smiling tenderly at Crowley. The demon stuttered out some kind of noise, looking between Aziraphale and the chips with shock. He really hadn't realized he'd noticed. 

The angel took his hand before he could try to say anything. "I'm glad you ate some Crowley, I know how much you like scummy chips."

He couldn't tell if Crowley could tell what he was doing by this point, but he was getting red and shrinking in his chair. 

"Ngk, 'Zira-" he whined. 

Time for the kill. Aziraphale gazed at him with the most loving eyes and smile he could muster and squeezed his hands. 

"Yes, baby?" 

It ought to be obvious to anyone who's ever met Aziraphale, that he is not the kind of man (person, angel, whatever) who would ever call his partner 'baby.' He was the type to utter classy, long used endearments; dear, darling, dearest, my love, my _heart_ , all of those are the kinds of pet names he would use. Yes, an old fashioned soul, who would only ever use the word 'baby' to refer to an actual baby. 

So when Aziraphale called Crowley 'baby,' there was no quicker way to drop him into littlespace.

He knew he'd succeeded when his partner didn't answer, couldn't do anything but look down at his lap and let out soft whines from the back of his throat. Aziraphale scootched a little closer to him. 

"I think you're little right now, honey," he spoke softly. Crowley whimpered and curled in on himself more, and the angel gave the top of his head a light kiss.

"And that's completely alright, dear," he reassured. "We'll get the rest of this wrapped up and go right home, okay?" 

He moved to scootch back a bit, but was stopped when he heard a croaked out "No…"

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, who was still firmly looking away from him. 

"No what, love?" he asked. 

"No it's not alright, it's not okay!" Crowley whispered harshly, pulling his hands away from Aziraphale's to tug them through his hair. "I can't be, I can't be re- hng-" 

His angel leaned forward again, stroking his arms gently, noticing he was shaking just a bit. 

"I can't be regressed," he pushed out miserably. "We were, were gonna have a nice night, and get drunk and talk and-" He blushed even harder, looked down even more firmly. "A-an', do, _other_ things."

Aziraphale sighed and continued to stroke his arms, pressing another smooch on top of his lovely red hair. 

"Oh my dear boy," he murmured. "Do you really think we can't have a nice night, just because you're small?" 

He coaxed Crowley's hands out of his hair and held them again, leaning more forward. He tried to lean down a bit too, get his boy's line of sight, convince him to look up at him. 

"Well, I think I could have an excellent, wonderful time with you tonight," he whispered soothingly. "It could even still happen in bed, but rather than naughty things we could read a story together."

Crowley sniffled a bit, and tilted his head up just a bit. Aziraphale gave him a reassuring smile. 

"I think we could go back to the shop," he continued to whisper, "and up to the flat, and I could get you into some nice soft pyjamas. And I'd put some comfy ones on too, and we could do anything you like." He paused to kiss Crowley's nose as he shakily raised his head a bit more. 

"I could help you feel even smaller," he breathed into his ear. "And I could give you your bottle full of yummy milk, read you a story while I feed you, and cuddle with you all night." One more kiss, to the tattoo by his ear. 

"Now, doesn't that sound like a wonderful night?" he asked. "Because it does to me, and I'm already so happy just thinking about it."

Crowley had completely lifted his face by now, and Aziraphale heard him breathing harshly into his ear. He tilted his head a bit to see his face, seeing it red as his hair and looking like he was on the verge of tears. The angel finally pulled back, and stared softly at Crowley until he gave him a tiny nod. The angel beamed and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

"Let's go home then," he sighed. 

Aziraphale had the waiter pack up their leftover food, and once they had and he'd paid he and Crowley got up and made their way towards the exit. 

The staff and patrons who had noticed them in the corner felt that they knew where the evening would take the odd couple, seeing the soft one getting so close to partner, leaning in and whispering things in his ear that made him blush so deeply. 

They felt even more that they were correct as the couple walked out of the restaurant, the rounder man holding a bag of leftovers with one hand and his partner's own hand with the other, a partner who still looked very pink as they exited the restaurant just as they'd come in, hand in hand. 

What they didn't think to make anything of was the way it wasn't exactly how they'd come in, how the skinny one was only holding onto one of his partner's thick fingers - like child would hold onto their parent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to put up with me~ Kudos are appreciated, but these are cathartic enough to right that they're not strictly necessary.


	7. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I promised pain, and I deliver. Can't do recovery writing if it's all cutesy now can I?

Crowley woke up screaming, visions of being beaten and violated and used over and over again writhing around in his head. 

Aziraphale gasped and recoiled away. He had been about to wake him up himself, but the symptoms of the nightmare had been so much quieter than normal. It had been a good day (a good whole week really, aside from the fact that Aziraphale could tell there was something bothering Crowley; but whatever it was he would tell him when he was ready), so he hadn't thought twice about letting his husband fall asleep on his own while he sat up reading next to him in bed. So engrossed in the latest in a series of mystery novels as he was, he didn't notice anything amiss until Crowley had started thrashing and whimpering. 

The demon gasped as he shot up, struggling to breathe as he came down from the night terror. The instant he came back somewhat to reality he curled in on himself and started sobbing violently. 

Aziraphale's heart ached, and he struggled as always to keep himself from reaching out to comfort his love with his touch. He knew he needed to wait, needed to use his words until Crowley could let him know if it was okay for him to be touched. 

"Crowley Crowley," he attempted, "My love, my dearest, my sweet darling, it's okay, it's okay."

His demon was curled up as tightly as he could be, like the snake he was, his whole body shaking with harsh sobs and gasps. But then in between the tears, Aziraphale heard words whimpered out. 

"Mummy, mummy, mu- mommy," the poor thing sobbed softly. "I want mommy, I want my mommy…"

The angel felt himself snap into his caregiver headspace and his heart clenched even more painfully. It was even harder to resist reaching out to hold his dearest thing, but he stopped himself, kept himself from even assuring him that he was here. It hadn't happened often, you see, but there had been a few times when Crowley had cried out for a different mother in his distress - a more ineffable and higher-than-all-of-creation-y one. 

But then he turned to Aziraphale, and as he looked at him with his brilliant serpent's eyes full of anguish and tears, the angel knew that he was looking for him, and only him. His boy mewled painfully and held out his arms to him, and that was all the permission he needed to pitch forward and grab him tight, pulling him flush against his torso in a comforting embrace. 

"Oh my love, my baby," Aziraphale choked out, trying to will any tears from his own distress down. "My baby boy, it's okay, no more nightmares. You're safe now, mommy's right here, you're safe." He rocked Crowley gently and held him securely, feeling hot tears coat his collarbone where the poor thing's head was buried. 

There was the sensation of something else warm and wet seeping against him, but lower down in the sheets. The demon cried out and tried to push away from him, but Aziraphale held him fast against himself. 

"No no baby," he murmured while quickly miracling away the accident. "Oh honey, honey it's okay, it's all okay, you're just scared."

Crowley let out a few pitiful noises against his chest, but gripped his angel's shirt in his fists again and let himself be held. The rocking and soothing continued as he wheezed and bawled into his chest, wails starting to quiet but pain still evident in every line of his body. 

At some point Aziraphale held him under his arms and lifted him up just a bit, just enough so that their faces were level with each other. Crowley's eyes were screwed shut as tears continued to escape from them, but they opened just a bit for Aziraphale. At this point the demon's body couldn't decide between sobbing and hiccupping, and the angel leaned him forward and nuzzled his face against his. 

"Yes my dear, yes," he whispered softly. "Just keep breathing, as well as you can. That's it Crowley, do it like mummy now, see? In and out, in and out, there you go little one."

Crowley did his best to hiccup and gasp in time with Aziraphale's breathing. His eyes squeezed shut again as he took in shallow, shuddering breaths. 

"Huuuurrrrtssssssss," he wheezed out. "Hurrtssss, hurtsss, mommy it hurtsss…"

"You're in pain, baby?" Aziraphale murmured with concern. "Will you show me where it hurts?" 

(He wanted Crowley to show him. He wanted him to scream it out loud, like he always did when he was regressed. How many horrifying, terrible details of Crowley's captivity had he learned about since he'd started using age regression? How many times had he woken up from a nightmare that Aziraphale couldn't protect him from, terrified and hurting and so so little? It had been many times, many times that he had been in too much pain, too scared and too small to try to spare Aziraphale like he usually did. Too small to do anything but cling to his angel and cry, cry out whatever horrible thing he'd had to relive in his dreams. And Aziraphale would hold him as he wept, listen to everything no matter how much it hurt to hear. He would share Crowley's burden however he could, let him know that he could tell him anything, seek comfort from him and receive more than he knew what to do with.)

"No no-" All of a sudden Crowley sat up in his lap, pulling out of his embrace. "No no it's okay, you shu- shouldn't, hck, hafta do that for m-me."

Aziraphale felt his brow scrunch together with confusion. "Do what, dear?" he asked. 

"It- pain, it's okay, 'cause I-I'm bad," his baby blubbered out, his expression miserable and almost ashamed. He looked away from the angel as his fists came up to rub at his eyes. "I've been, being- hck, b-bad, sso I deserve it, I d-deserve it- I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm ss-sorry I'm a bad boy-" 

"Crowley, darling-" Aziraphale grabbed the demon's hands and pulled them away from his face, holding them gently in his own. "My dear boy, whatever are you talking about? Why do you think you're a bad boy?" 

Crowley sniffled and flicked his eyes up to him, but still didn't meet his gaze. He looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible while Aziraphale was holding his hands out. 

"You-" he wheezed in a breath, and his caregiver gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "I muh, m-make you take care of me, and I bother y-you a lot and you feel like you have to, have to let me, even though it makes you sad n', hck, tired- m'sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Oh, my heart." Aziraphale pulled Crowley towards him just a bit and leaned forward. "Is this why you haven't been little all week? You've been worried about me?" 

The angel was realizing that his criteria for the past week being so good had in fact been that Crowley hadn't spent any of it regressed. But no, not just that - his partner's gone for longer periods of time without utilizing that particular coping mechanism. What had been particularly striking about this week was how independent Crowley's been for it. No flashbacks, no bad days, just a romantic domesticity while they went about their days. He'd even surprised him with homemade dinner a few nights! It was almost like their relationship had been in the earlier years, before everything went pear-shaped. 

But oh, if this is what had been bothering him then who knows how good it had actually been. He wasn't a stranger to Crowley attempting to hide his pain from him, make him think everything was fine even when it wasn't. If he had been trying to keep himself from regressing because he wanted to give Aziraphale some "normal" time, some time without him being a way that made him feel like he was a burden to the angel-

Well, it wouldn't be the first time, in fact. Aziraphale had had to realize the importance of self care a while ago, a bit of time after his and Crowley's freedom had been secured. They'd had a fight, and he'd stormed off to clear his head, and he'd ended up meeting someone who made him realize that he needed to take care of himself too, let himself rest for both his and his husband's sakes. 

Crowley knew this too, and he would do subtle things for Aziraphale if he suspected he was burning out, give him a gift, give him space; but, he also had a nasty habit of distancing himself completely, closing himself off even when he needed help, or even when Aziraphale didn't actually need a break. 

To his credit, little Crowley possessed no such subtlety - he had more than once pushed Aziraphale into bed, surrounded him with stuffies, and glared at him until he agreed to stay there. Being dragged so suddenly into that headspace is probably why Crowley was letting the charade drop now; he couldn't keep it up, no matter how bad he felt about "burdening" Aziraphale. 

The demon hiccuped again, and more fat tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm sssssowy, I'm sowy I lied to y-you-" 

"Oh my baby," the angel breathed, pulling himself and Crowley closer until their foreheads were resting together. "You didn't lie to me honey, you were only worried about me, weren't you?" 

Crowley didn't answer, eyes shut again as he tried to take in shaky breaths. Aziraphale kissed his tear tracks away, then touched their foreheads again. 

"Dearheart, listen to me," he whispered softly. "I'm not exhausted, I swear. If I needed a break I'd tell you, I promise. I'm not hiding that from you anymore."

He rubbed Crowley's upper arms, steady and soothing, as he listened to his breathing even out just a bit at his partner's reassuring words. 

"I know I've told you before, but I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, Crowley." Aziraphale closed his own eyes and let love flow through him, directly into his darling. "You are not a burden to me, not at all, especially not like this. I love you, and I love taking care of you. I'm not drained because just getting to hold you like this, take care of you like this makes me so very happy. And if that ever wasn't the case, I would tell you, I promise."

Crowley's tears had stopped flowing now, his breathing shaky but steady against Aziraphale's lips. The angel opened his eyes, and saw golden slits just barely open, peering at him through puffy lids. 

The angel smiled and kissed his nose. "And for the record," he added. "You are _not_ a bad boy. You are an incredibly _good_ boy, always." He hands raised to hold his demon's head, gently, thumbs rubbing at soft hair. "And good boys don't deserve to be in pain, now do they?" 

Crowley sniffled and shook his head a little. Aziraphale let his joy pour into him. 

"That's absolutely right." He started to move them then, leaning back to rest against the headboard and pulling Crowley with him. He maneuvered his boy until he had him in a cradle hold in his arms. The little thing looked up at him with his starlight eyes and Aziraphale smiled warmly at him. 

"Do you know what you deserve?" he asked softly while leaning in closer, as if he were about to impart some grand secret. Crowley shook his head. 

Aziraphale pulled him just a bit closer against his chest. "You deserve to be taken care of," he whispered, just above Crowley's head. "You deserve to be babied, and spoiled, and to be as happy and comfy as you want. You deserve a soft blanket, and a warm bottle, and all the toys and stuffies you could ever want. And you deserve to be loved and held and fed and taken such good care of. You deserve all that and more…"

He abruptly stopped as Crowley started crying again, soft sobs coming from his lips and hot tears falling from eyes screwed shut again. 

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale cooed, pulling his love right up against him, still cradling him and stroking his hair. "I'm so sorry my dear, I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

He rocked Crowley as he continued to weep, letting him pull away from his embrace just a bit. His face was flushed and wet, and his hands came up to rub it, to hold it in front of his eyes, whether to try to get himself under control or hide Aziraphale didn't know. 

"I, I- I wasn't, I didn't, I didn't want-" he sobbed out, gasping for breath whenever he could. "It was Up an-and, and I w-was good, I was a slave and I wasss good bu-but I didn't _wanna_ be, I didn't want ta be but I had to do but I didn't want-" 

There it was, Aziraphale thought, there was his boy letting him see his nightmare. But rather than share any details tonight he got cut off by another gasp and just continued to sob, and Aziraphale kept up rocking him. 

"Oh my little boy," he soothed with a kiss, "I know you didn't want to, I know, I know. You can be whatever you want now honey, you never have to go through anything like that ever again. What do you want to be now dearest?" 

Crowley continued to whimper and cry, fists rubbing at his eyes. He pushed himself closer against Aziraphale and curled against him. 

"I, _hck_ \- I dun w-wanna be a ss-ssslave," he bawled against his shoulder. "I wuh- I w-wanna be your baby-yy..." Aziraphale wrapped his arms tighter around him (but not too tight, never too tight). 

"Then that's what you'll be," he stated firmly, smooching Crowley's head. "My baby gets whatever he wants."

It was a while more that they stayed like that, Aziraphale just rocking and shushing Crowley gently as he cried, cried until there just weren't enough tears left in him anymore. Until all he could do was whimper and hiccup and gasp for air, held and rocked and rocked steadily in strong, loving arms. Arms that held him tight next to a soft, warm chest, with a steady heartbeat that might as well have been a lullaby to him. There was a head too, he was sure of it, resting right on top of his own, nuzzling and kissing gently against his hair (Aziraphale had asked if the kisses were okay, had finally been calm enough to think to. Not with words, but with a wave of energy like the signal of a radio, and he'd received back a frequency that could be loosely translated as yes yes yes).

"How silly…" Crowley heard whispered against his head, at some point when he had become quiet enough to hear anything other than his own heavy breathing. He felt another kiss against his crown, and a smile to go with it. 

"Silliest thing I ever heard, that you were making me take care of you," the voice continued quietly, a breath against the demon's hair. "As if I don't look so forward to it. Or as if you could make me do anything, you're so tiny."

Crowley let out a little whine at this, and the hold around him loosened just enough for Aziraphale to lean his head back to look at his face, eyes and smile warm and full of love. 

"Just teeny tiny," he said as a finger came up to boop Crowley's nose. He stuck his tongue out and Aziraphale let out a soft chuckle.

They stayed there a while longer, the angel still lightly rocking his partner, bouncing him a bit every now and then. He could tell Crowley still needed to calm down, even if he'd stopped crying, could tell his mind still had horrible memories playing in the background that were just waiting for the moment to strike. He gave his boy's cheek a kiss, having to bend down for how loose his hold on him had gotten. He'd do his best to make sure that any other attacks tonight were less painful, could be calmed down more easily. 

"Love?" he murmured, giving Crowley a little bounce. The demon peered up at Aziraphale as he tilted him up a bit, gold eyes wide and soft and completely snakey. 

"Would you like to do something else, darling?" the angel asked gently. "I can't imagine you'd like to go back to sleep right away."

Crowley whined and shut his eyes, and Aziraphale was quick to pull him into a hug, still having him sit up a bit more. 

"We can do anything you want, little boy," he spoke softly. "Anything you want at all. You're in charge here."

Crowley let out a little whine again, but didn't answer. He didn't in words, but at some point felt a message that meant _I don't know_ transmitted to him. He rubbed the demon's back soothingly. 

"You don't know what you want, dearest?" he murmured. His confirmation came in the form of more soft whines and a little head shake against his shoulder. He pulled Crowley away from him just a bit, just so he could look at his face. It was tense again, so he stroked the hair around it. 

"What about a bath then, hmm?" Aziraphale asked him, figuring getting them out of bed would be a good place to start. "A nice warm bubble bath? Do you think that would be alright?" 

Crowley sniffled a little, and then nodded. Aziraphale pulled him back into a hug, into more gentle rocking. 

"We'll get up in a minute then," he sighed, thinking of something and snapping his fingers. He cursed himself when Crowley flinched, but instead of beating himself up for carelessness he took the blanket he had miracled over to them and wrapped it around the little thing in his arms. He should've done this sooner, he thought, swaddling Crowley in his starry blankie. He moved him into a cradle hold again, making sure he wasn't wrapped too tight. He'd also willed over a black paci, which he popped into Crowley's mouth, and he immediately started sucking on it. 

Still cradling him, Aziraphale shifted to get off the bed. He stood up with Crowley securely in his arms, making sure his blankie was still tucked around him snugly before treading over to the door of their bedroom. 

The bathroom was located right next to their room, so it took just a second for Aziraphale to get them in there. He turned on the light and let the door swing closed. It was a fairly modest bathroom really, pale color scheme, mirror above the sink, some fluffy bath mats - but the bathtub was big and lovely. 

The door also had a full-sized mirror on it, and Aziraphale faced the two of them towards it. He saw Crowley's eyes turn up to watch their reflection as he lightly swayed and bounced him a little in his arms. 

Crowley liked looking in the mirror when he was little, content for however long to simply watch his reflection. Aziraphale knew that actual babies could be soothed by looking in a mirror, so it was an interesting coincidence that the same applied to his little boy. 

He wasn't entirely why such a thing calmed Crowley when he was regressed. But as he figured, he knew his demon's bad memories could become so intense that he would start to feel like his physical appearance had gone back to those times (and that he'd been forced in front of a mirror more than once during his captivity, forced to watch what was being done to him from behind). So he supposed it could be therapeutic, cathartic even, for him to see himself as he was, just like now; wrapped up in a blanket, a pacifier in his mouth, looking small and warm and safe in the loving arms of his angel. 

Aziraphale tilted his head down to press a kiss to a sharp cheekbone. "Look at how cute you are," he cooed. Crowley let out a little noise from behind his paci, but only spared him a glance before turning his gaze back on the mirror. 

It occurred to Aziraphale then that he would have to put Crowley down to get the bath ready, and maybe get his bottle while he was at it. With a thought the door opened enough for him to squeeze through, and he set the demon down on the floor in front of the mirror, figuring it would be enough to distract him while he prepared everything. As he turned to the bath however, he heard a whimper and looked back down. 

Crowley was looking up at him instead of the mirror now, and his paci had fallen out of his mouth. He was also clawing at his neck and whimpering painfully, eyes full of distress yet again. Aziraphale immediately dropped to his knees and reached up to his neck. 

"Shhhhhh," he went softly as he moved his boy's hands aside and gently massaged his neck, reminding him that nothing was there. "Shhhhhh, shhhh, sweetheart it's okay-" 

The angel realized what he'd said only a split second before Crowley let out a strangled cry and shot back away from him, clutching his blanket as tight as it would go around him while horrible pained sounds came from his throat. Aziraphale's blood ran cold, his hands flying to his mouth as he saw slitted eyes shot through with panic and pain. 

"Oh no, oh no," he choked through his hands. "Crowley I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry-" 

The terror in his demon's eyes faded quickly, replaced with more wetness. He sniffled and let his blankie hang around him more loosely as he crawled back over to Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning in to press wet kisses against his cheek. 

"It's okay…" he mumbled, trembling, nuzzling his caregiver's cheek. Aziraphale sighed and wrapped his arms around his lanky frame in a loose hug. 

"No it isn't," he murmured, starting to rock them on autopilot. "It's not okay honey, I have to be more careful. I'm so very sorry."

Crowley let out a few more whimpers and relaxed in his hold, still nuzzling him a little. Aziraphale just held him for another minute before pulling him over to the edge of the bathtub. He turned the faucets, just enough for a light stream of warm water to start flowing out of the faucet. 

He turned to Crowley, who was staring at the running water while holding his blankie tightly around himself again. Aziraphale knew more now than ever that it was a night he had to be careful, do his best not to do anything to provoke the terrible memories and thoughts that were floating near the surface of Crowley's mind. He raised an arm to rub his boy's back through his blanket. 

"Dear? Is the water too scary tonight?" he asked gently. 

Crowley slowly lifted an arm out from his blankie, and inched it forward to the flow of water. He let his hand slip under the faucet, feeling the warm stream, confirming for his body that it wasn't water that would hurt him. 

"No," he said with a little head shake, "S'not scary."

Aziraphale kissed the side of his head as he pulled his arm back. The angel then plucked the plug off the side of the bath and stuck it in the drain, allowing the water to start to fill the tub. 

He looked back to Crowley, who was once again letting out little whimpers and rubbing at his neck. It pained Aziraphale to see, and he leaned forward to press their foreheads together like before. 

"Darling?" he murmured. 

"Hmm?" 

He lifted a hand to stroke the ones Crowley had at his throat. "Did you want to hear an idea I might have, to help with the phantom pain?" 

The demon made a curious little noise. As it was Aziraphale _did_ have a bit of an idea, but he wasn't completely certain it was a good one. He'd already gone and opened his mouth though, so he might as well see what Crowley thinks. He started stroking his soft coppery hair. 

"Well-" he started before he lost his nerve, "-what about wearing a necklace?" 

Crowley leaned back from him and tilted his head. Aziraphale was quick to sputter out, "It's alright if you don't want to of course! And you could take it off anytime you want to. It's just that I saw one in a shop that reminded me of you a few months ago, and I bought it even though you'd probably never like to have anything on your neck ever again. But it is quite loose and lovely, and perhaps it could serve as a distraction? Oh dear I'm sorry, not sure what I'm thinking."

He let out a nervous laugh, but Crowley was still just staring at him intently. He seemed to be thinking about something, and after a moment he gave a little nod. 

"Okay," he said. 

Aziraphale stopped, and stared back at him. "Okay?" he asked. "You mean you'd like to try it?" 

Crowley nodded again. He didn't seem nervous or worried about the idea, which was a good sign Aziraphale supposed. 

"Alright then dear," he said, standing up. "I'll go get it then."

He pulled his boy back over by the mirror, then found his paci on the ground and reached down to grab it and pop it in Crowley's mouth. Then he walked out the bathroom and back to their bedroom. 

The necklace he had mentioned had been in a little box under their dresser for the past few months. Aziraphale reached under to retrieve it, dusting off the top before opening it. He pulled the necklace out, admiring it for just a second before setting the box down and making his way back into the bathroom. 

When he walked back through the opening in the bathroom door, Crowley was still right in front of the mirror, curled in his blankie while passively watching his reflection. He didn't look up at Aziraphale when he came in, so the angel kneeled down next to him and held up the necklace. 

"Would you like to try this on, dear boy?" he asked, and Crowley glanced up at what he held. It was a simple but elegant piece of jewelry, a thin silver chain with bright yellow gemstones hanging near the center. The demon nodded, then turned his attention back to the mirror. 

With his permission Aziraphale moved Crowley's long hair to the side and lifted the necklace up to his neck. He took a look in the mirror himself and saw that his boy was watching him through their reflections, eyes lightly lidded and relaxed looking. Another good sign as he lifted the ends of the chain up behind his neck, unable to resist giving him another kiss on his snake tattoo. 

"Do you like it?" he murmured in his love's ear, clasping the thin ends together. "I thought it would complement your beautiful eyes perfectly."

Crowley didn't answer him, just continued to watch through the mirror as Aziraphale adjusted the necklace in front of him a bit. He hadn't lied about it being loose, the golden gems hanging low on the demon's chest. His expression stayed calm as it was secured around his neck, and he started sucking absentmindedly on his pacifier. 

Aziraphale leaned back again and wrung his hands anxiously. "Is that okay dear?" he asked. 

Crowley still didn't answer verbally, but tilted his torso a bit as he kept looking in the mirror. The necklace moved with a little jingle, and he tilted the other way, necklace falling again. He grabbed a part of it then and started shaking it a bit, gemstones clacking together pleasantly. 

Aziraphale figured that that was good enough, with Crowley looking rather blissful and thoroughly distracted. He stood up again and clapped his hands together softly. 

"Right! Well then," he exclaimed. "I'll run the bath then." He gave a little ruffle to the top of Crowley's hair, and leaned down to place an extra smooch there for good measure. 

First thing he turned his sights on was the bath. He turned the knobs up higher so that the tub would begin properly filling, making sure the water was nice and warm but not too hot. Then he grabbed some of the liquid soap resting on the side and squirted a generous amount under the faucet, watching with satisfaction as bubbles began to form. With nothing to do but wait now for the bath to fill, he snuck around Crowley and out of the bathroom. 

With a quick detour to their bedroom to grab Crowley's bottle, he went down the stairs to the first floor of their cottage and into the kitchen. There he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Jersey milk (delicious and nutritious in his opinion, perfect for keeping Crowley from losing weight when he couldn't eat). He popped the cap off and filled up Crowley's bottle with it before placing it back in the fridge. 

Screwing the top on the bottle he left it on a table in the sitting room for later, figuring it would be warmed up by the time bathtime was over. He then made his way back upstairs, and back into the bathroom. 

Crowley was exactly where he'd left him, wiggling and jangling his necklace. Aziraphale smiled and looked towards the tub. It had filled up to the perfect height, with bubbles covering all of the water and almost spilling over the edges. He walked over and turned the faucet off, dipping a hand in the water to check the temperature. It was perfectly warm, just the right temperature for his boy. Satisfied he went back over to Crowley, who he could tell was watching him in the mirror. 

When Aziraphale got to his side he actually looked up at him, serpent eyes still as calm as they'd been when he'd left him. He let out a little noise at him and the angel couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

"Hello snakelet," he greeted. "The bath is ready."

Crowley nodded, and then just a bit of tension creeped into his expression as he whined and tugged at his necklace, not playfully like he'd been doing before. 

"Is it time to take that off?" Aziraphale asked. His little whined again in response, and he wasted no time in leaning down to undo the clasp behind his neck and gingerly pull the necklace off of him. 

Setting it aside on the counter, Aziraphale kneeled down next to Crowley and kissed his forehead. "What a good boy," he cooed softly. "So proud of you."

The demon let out a much less unhappy whine at that, and let his blankie fall around him. Aziraphale gazed at him softly as he took his paci out and put it up on the counter next to his necklace. His dear turned back to him and he smiled. 

"Do you want me to get in the bath with you, Crowley?" he enquired. Crowley glanced at the tub and nodded. 

"Okay," Aziraphale said. He reached forward and smoothed out the fabric of Crowley's pyjamas. "Do you want to keep these on?" he asked gently. The demon thought for a second, and then shook his head. 

"Alright little one, what if I got undressed too then, hmm?" he asked again. Crowley nodded, already unbuttoning his top. Aziraphale followed suit, starting to remove his striped nightclothes. 

They had both gotten down to their pants when he looked up again. Crowley had done a very good job of getting himself out of his adult pyjamas, now only clad in dark boxer briefs. But he had stopped there, and was looking down at the floor, curled in on himself and shifting uncomfortably. 

Aziraphale scootched toward him a bit while he gripped at his pants. "Keep those on?" A gentle reminder that it was his choice. Crowley gave a little whimper and nod.

"That sounds like a very good idea," Aziraphale affirmed. "I'll keep mine on too then, yes?" 

Crowley looked up at him bashfully this time when he nodded, so the angel made sure there was only love in his expression. 

"Alrighty then," he said, opening his arms for his little demon to climb into. "Pip pip, up we go!"

He secured Crowley in his arms as he stood up, and walked them over to the bath. With a quick mental confirmation with him that he was still okay with this, Aziraphale stepped carefully into the tub. Then slowly, he sank down into the bubbles. 

Crowley reached down to feel the temperature of the water before his angel sat down fully. Seemingly satisfied, he hung onto Aziraphale as they sunk into the water, surrounded by fluffy bubbles all around. 

Aziraphale let out a sigh as he was submerged in the warm water, and Crowley had seemingly relaxed too, wiggling out of his grasp to sink further in. He splashed the water a bit before lying down on top of Aziraphale, like a slick pillow. His caregiver lifted an arm up to stroke his hair and back, letting them feedback their feelings of relaxation to each other. 

They spent a good long while in that bath, though neither was sure how long, they were sure it was a very nice time. Mostly they rested against each other, exchanging warmth and kisses. A few times Crowley sat up and played with the bubbles a bit, but he wasn't bored for the most part. Aziraphale offered to get his bath toys out for him, but he declined, happy enough as he was. Though even without toys, there was quite a bit of fun had when he piled bubbles on the angel's face to make it look like he had a beard (it absolutely was not the first time he'd done that, but Aziraphale laughed just the same as if it had been).

The water getting cold or them getting wrinkly obviously wasn't an issue, but eventually Crowley had started looking sleepy enough that Aziraphale decided that it was time for them to get out. The demon didn't even object, loose in his partner's arms as he pulled the drain and then pulled them out of the water, setting him down on a mat and wrapping him in a towel. 

Aziraphale started drying himself with one too, but he looked with concern at Crowley. He was starting to almost fall over with his eyes closed, and the angel didn't want him falling asleep just yet. He leaned over and pinched his cheek a little bit. 

"Crowley?" he spoke softly. Crowley blinked up at him drowsily. 

"Darling, would you be okay with me miracling us all dry and dressed?" he asked. His love nodded, so with a thought to what he wanted he snapped his fingers. 

He was immediately completely dry, and back into the pyjamas he'd been wearing before their bath. Crowley was dried as well, and because Aziraphale figured he deserved something special after tonight, the ensemble he'd put him into was an adorable and soft duckling onesie. The angel had to keep himself from audibly cooing at the sight of his baby wearing it, but did not restrict himself in leaning forward to kiss his nose. 

"Come on then," he said to him, "let's go downstairs now."

Crowley nodded sleepily at him, and held his arms out to be picked up. And picked up he was, in strong but soft arms that cradled him so lovingly to a warm chest as Aziraphale stood up. Thinking "just in case," he grabbed the pacifier on the counter and put it in his pocket before walking out the bathroom door with his precious cargo, turning the light off behind them as they went downstairs. 

They made it to the sitting room and Crowley yawned, so Aziraphale wasted no time in grabbing his bottle (now a nice room temperature) from an end table and making his way to a certain, very special chair. It was a plush, cozy armchair that also doubled as a reclining rocking chair, and it was one of this set of celestial spouses' most favorite places to relax when the one of them was little, Crowley curled up in Aziraphale's lap while he read a book or anything else, rocking soothingly back and forth. 

It was this chair that Aziraphale sat down in now, his love cradled firmly in his arms. He reclined the chair just a bit, and pulled Crowley's blankie out from somewhere to cover him up. 

His boy looked up at him with soft, heavy eyes as he pulled his blanket over him, and they somehow got even softer when he held up his bottle. 

The angel gave the bottle a little shake, and he looked down to meet Crowley's gaze with one that matched in warmth and love. 

"Here you are, sweet baby," he whispered lovingly, holding the bottle up to Crowley's lips. "It's time to relax now."

The demon latched onto the rubber ending and started sucking gently, letting out a little hum as the sweet milk filled his mouth. He gazed up at his caregiver with lidded starry eyes for another minute before they slid closed, still drinking from his bottle. 

Aziraphale loved seeing Crowley like this so very much, comfortable and blissed, escaped for even a little while from all the horrors. He barely started drinking and he was already relaxed enough to want to fall asleep again. 

Quietly as they rocked, Aziraphale began to sing a lullaby. It was another one in a long forgotten language, that his husband himself had sang to frightened children. As he sang Crowley's sucking slowed and slowed, and before he'd even finished his bottle he had drifted off, breathing deeply and softly. 

Aziraphale smiled at him so wide his cheeks hurt. He kissed Crowley's forehead and wrapped him a little more snugly in his blanket, before reclining the chair enough that he could lie back a bit. He didn't intend to leave Crowley alone in his dreams anymore tonight, after all. 

He grabbed a book off of the end table, a boring text that was as sure to put him to sleep as lying with his darling was. He opened the book, and also nudged open his connection with Crowley to let all the love he was feeling flow into him, hoping that would be enough to stave off any nightmares until he could get in there himself. 

Aziraphale read and read, and held Crowley as he did, and sure enough he soon found himself fading into sleep too. He set the book down and leaned back heavily, closing his eyes and letting the warmth from a sleeping demon lull him over the edge. 

_Hold on, Crowley,_ he thought. _No more nightmares tonight. I'm coming, mummy's here now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My morbid curiosity has led me to read some more stuff, but once again, haven't really read Repossession! So tell me about things that aren't right please! (at least in chapters like this, instead of the chapters that can just be read on their own, which I will start marking soon)
> 
> And uh, I hope you at least enjoy the fact that I'll never leave y'all with anything but a comfy ending. Cheers kudos and all that, see you when the plague is over.
> 
> (Also, I ought to mention that I took Crowley's duckling onesie from chapter 9 of this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499539/chapters/48648422. It's super cute and I hope it updates again one day.)


	8. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this ain't an April Fool's joke. Yeah I heard about the holy water on his eyes. Enjoy.

It was night now, and raining, which meant that it was dark as anything. No starlight, no moonshine, just pitch black. Were someone to come up the country road, the only thing they would be able to see through the darkness and the water would be pinpricks of yellowish light; go a little farther and they would be able to see that the light was coming through the windows of what appeared to be a cottage. 

Inside was brightly lit and warm, a sharp contrast against the cold rainy night that surrounded it. The lights in most rooms were still on, and an angel sat with a cup of tea and a book in a cozy armchair. 

Aziraphale was quite content tonight, despite the foul weather. He quite liked the rain, as it were; of course it carried some foul memories, but there were good ones in there as well (one in particular, the very first, that of a wall and raised wing). And either way, in these modern days of sturdy shelters he actually found the sound of it quite comforting. The weather was welcome to do whatever it wanted outside, so long as he was safe and warm indoors with his books and the love of his life. 

Speaking of which, he heard a soft padding sound and looked up. Crowley had appeared from the doorway leading to the stairs, and was approaching him slowly. He had put himself in his best silk pyjamas for the night, and he was also hugging his blankie to himself. Aziraphale smiled brightly at the sight of his partner. 

"Ah, hello dear," he said warmly. "I was beginning to think you'd gone to sleep already."

Crowley, who was now standing directly in front of him, shifted a little on his feet and pushed his face against the top of his blanket. He was looking away from Aziraphale shyly, and the angel thought that everything about his current demeanor was making him look very small. 

"Yeah, I was trying to sleep but-" the demon started, slightly muffled against soft fabric as he struggled to get what he wanted to say out. "-but there's too much, there's too many bad thoughts tonight and I can't-" 

Aziraphale felt that familiar ache in his heart that came about whenever he saw Crowley like this, his body tense, his usually confident posture crumbled, his whole self trying to prevent him from asking for the help he so desperately needed. The angel took in the blanket he was clutching, and figured it was a specific kind of help he needed right now, one that was almost the hardest to ask for. 

So he closed his book, and asked for him. "Do you need some little time, my love?" 

He only received what might have been a tiny whine in response as Crowley moved the top of his blanket to cover his whole face. The sight made that ache in Aziraphale's chest a little stronger; he didn't want Crowley to be ashamed of this coping mechanism. He wanted to let him know it was okay. Wordlessly, he scooched over to one side of the armchair, patting the new empty space next to him. 

"Darling, would you like to sit with me?" he asked gently (he had been about to just say "come here," but some part of him always second guessed his words, telling him _give him a choice, make sure he has a choice_ ). Crowley once again didn't give a verbal response, but eventually came closer. Keeping his face covered, he carefully turned around and squeezed between Aziraphale and one of the armrests. This was their special chair, and usually one of them sat on top of the other in it, but it did have enough room for them to push in side by side (whether this is through the actual design or either angelic or demonic will is up for debate). 

With how close they are the demon couldn't help but lean against Aziraphale, who let him wholeheartedly. The angel felt him trembling lightly, and gave into the urge to wrap an arm around him. Crowley relaxed just a bit more in his hold, and he could have sighed with relief. 

"...Do you know I love you very much?" he enquired very softly. His boy didn't even make a noise this time, but he shifted a bit, and Aziraphale turned his head towards him. He had let his blankie fall just enough to uncover his eyes, and he was peeking up at him with those bright, lovely orbs. His caregiver smiled and couldn't help pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

"It's true," he almost whispered. "I absolutely adore you." At this point he found himself reaching down to Crowley's legs, pulling them so that they rested in his lap. Aziraphale heard a little noise made at him and looked down at his little one. The new angle meant that the way he was holding him now was much more like a cradle, and he couldn't help the overwhelming love from rushing up into him. 

"Cutie pie," he cooed while reaching down to lightly tickle Crowley's tummy. The demon let out a little giggle at the touch and the little compliment, and Aziraphale couldn't keep his smile from widening. 

"Dolly little thing," he added while leaning down to nuzzle his love's face. "Precious, just precious."

Crowley was giggling fully now, blankie fallen completely away from his face which meant Aziraphale could completely take in his expression. His mouth was a happy grin and his eyes were squeezed shut, but they opened just enough so that his boy could look up at him, meet his gaze with one that was very pleased. 

The angel touched a kiss to each of Crowley's eyelids. "What do you say," he spoke softly, "I put a nice movie on the telly for you, and while you watch you can sit here with me and have a snack. Does that sound good, dear boy?" 

Crowley nodded, and leaned up to smooch kisses all over his face. Aziraphale giggled and gave him one back before he pulled away, moving the demon off his lap and standing up. He kissed the top of his head and ruffled his red curls. 

"I'll go get you a snack then, dear," he said. "And a nice scrummy drink to go with it."

With that Aziraphale started walking over to the kitchen, but not a second later he heard movement from behind him. He didn't turn around, but he heard cute little mumbling followed by a thump on the ground, and the telltale sound of Crowley crawling towards him. 

He felt himself smile a little. Far be it from him to have a problem with it if his boy wanted to accompany him. He probably didn't want to be alone right now anyways. Aziraphale resumed his path to the kitchen, now with the sound of a crawling demon and the drag of a blanket behind him (surely a sound that would be scary to most, but not to him). 

Suddenly he felt his foot collide with something soft, and he stopped and looked down. He had been walking quite close to the sofa, and his foot had actually gone under it a bit and hit the head of a stuffed animal with a forked tongue. Aziraphale gasped; it was one of Crowley's stuffies! It was in fact the snake one that had gone missing about a week ago. How it had gotten stuffed under the couch Aziraphale didn't know, and he didn't particularly care as he kneeled down to grab it, thinking only of how much happier it would make Crowley tonight to have it back. 

"Oh my goodness darling!" he exclaimed, pulling out the very long body of the toy. "Look who I found-" 

Aziraphale didn't get to say who he'd found, because right at that moment he felt a flicker of something in the walls, and all of a sudden every light that was on turned off. With the state of the night outside, the cottage was plunged into complete darkness. 

There was a light bang behind him. "Ow."

Aziraphale cringed, recognizing the tone of the bang and realizing that Crowley must have hit his head on the coffee table. He turned to where he might have heard it, his mortal eyes completely blind in this sudden blackout. 

"Darling, are you alright?" he called out. He looked to where he heard the pattering of rain on the windows. "There's been no lightning, but perhaps the rain could have-" 

"Mommy, mommy where are you?" a voice quickly called back. Aziraphale frowned at the inflection he heard. Crowley sounded upset - no, not just that, there was definitely fear in his voice- 

"Mommy where are you-" the voice continued with rising panic, "where are you, I can't see, I can't see-" 

Aziraphale froze. Oh lord, no wonder he heard Crowley hyperventilating. He was already in a bad space tonight, and now his vision was suddenly gone-

"Crowley, I'm right here dearest," Aziraphale called out again, trying to keep his own panicking to a minimum. "Honey you have your night vision, remember? You have it dear, just give it a minute or two-" 

"Mommy _I can't see I can't see!!_ " Crowley screeched, practically hysterical by this point. It was lucky then that it was right then that Aziraphale found himself remembering that he was an angel, a celestial being that could bend reality to his whim. 

"Oh for the love of- _let there be light!_ " With a snap of his fingers, an otherworldly light shone down on the room from an unknown source above, illuminating the previously pitch-black scene. 

"Of all the feather-brained idiots," Aziraphale muttered to himself. "Forget my own head next indeed…"

He didn't have much time for berating himself though, when he looked up at Crowley. The demon was curled in on himself next to the coffee table, looking up at him wide eyes that were panicked and terrified, and already filling with tears. He cried out and shuffled towards Aziraphale as fast as he could, dropping his blankie in his haste. Aziraphale caught him as soon as he reached him, Crowley already crying as he was pulled into his lap and into a hug. 

"I'm here darling, I'm here," the angel reassured, holding Crowley firmly and rocking him as well as he could on the floor while he wailed into his shoulder. Sharp claws were digging into him through his clothes and he didn't care, not at all. "Baby boy, it's okay now, were you scared?" 

Crowley only responded by clinging harder to him as he cried. Aziraphale shushed him, rubbed his back and his hair to help him calm down. 

"It's okay baby," he soothed. "You can see little one, your eyes are just fine. Why don't you look my love, hm? Look up now, it's okay dear boy, you can see."

It took some more gentle coaxing, but eventually Crowley lifted his head out of his shoulder just enough to peek around. The light Aziraphale had summoned was still shining, not as strong as electric ones but just enough to make everything visible. 

"That's it love, that's it," Aziraphale crooned, gently stroking the hair by Crowley's face. "Yes dear, you can see very well can't you? You can see our nice house, full of the furniture we brought in together, and the soft carpet under our toes-" The angel lightly pushed one of his boy's scaled feet off his lap and onto said carpet, hoping the familiar and comforting texture would further ground him. With a harder sound from a droplet than normal, he registered the steady sound of the rain against the windows once again. 

"Oh, and do you hear the rain darling?" he asked. "I know you like the rain, you can hear it can't you? And you can see it falling through the windows?" Crowley let out a little sob and tilted his head more, and Aziraphale could see he was looking towards one of the windows where the rain was beating the heaviest. 

He gently pulled Crowley out of his already loosening death grip so that he could kiss the tattoo by his ear. "And you see me, don't you?" he murmured softly. "You see your mummy holding you tight, keeping you safe from anything scary."

Aziraphale heard Crowley's cries finally starting to die down into harsh breathing and sniffling. The demon rubbed his eyes and looked up at him, looking just a bit less scared. His caregiver nuzzled him, murmured "there's my brave boy," and shifted him into a more comfortable hold in his arms. Even if the tears had stopped he still looked upset, eyes darting around at everything, unhappy whines and babbling leaving his mouth when they landed back on Aziraphale. 

"I know baby boy, I know," he crooned gently, holding Crowley a little tighter. He leaned back a bit, and felt himself making contact with something soft. 

Oh yes! The stuffie he had found earlier! Aziraphale reached behind him and picked it up.

"Little snakelet," he said with excitement, "you'll never guess who I found right before the power went off." He held up the snake toy by its head, and Crowley gasped. 

"Monty!" he cried, grabbing the stuffie from Aziraphale and hugging it right to his chest (oh yes, that was his name, which Aziraphale still didn't quite get the reference to). In a second he had pulled the whole long body of the snake into his lap, and wrapped around himself a bit, hugging it tightly and nuzzling his cheek against the soft fabric. 

"You found him, you found him," he cooed happily, turning in Aziraphale's arms so he could nuzzle against him too. "Thank you thank you, I love you mummy."

The angel couldn't resist hugging him just a bit closer. "Oh my star, you're so very welcome, I love you too."

They still sat there, and any other time Aziraphale would have been fine with just staying on the floor for the night. But he looked around uneasily at their surroundings, still dark except for his own heavenly light above them (which was good in the moment yes, but he knew it carried bad connotations for Crowley). He just didn't know how to fix this if it hadn't been because of lightning. Hesitantly, he turned to the demon in his lap, seemingly losing himself in the embrace of his reunited friend while trying to get his breathing under control. 

"Crowley?" he asked quietly. His partner made a little noise and looked up at him. Aziraphale wiggled a bit uncomfortably. 

"Now dear, I know you're still upset," he began. "But you see, I'm not sure how well a miracle would work to turn the power back on unless I know for absolute sure what's wrong with it. And oh, you're really much better with this sort of thing than me, so I'd like to ask for your assistance with finding the problem. Are you up for that?"

Crowley kept looking up at him for a moment with slightly reddened eyes, then hugged Monty again. "Mmhm," he went softly. 

"Oh, thank you dearest," Aziraphale sighed, pulling Crowley into a proper hold and standing up. 

The demon wrapped his arms around his neck, then turned his head to a nearby wall. He reached out, and Aziraphale brought them close enough that he could rest his palm on the surface. His eyes narrowed in concentration, feeling the expanse of wires that ran through the walls of their cottage. 

After a minute he pulled his hand back. "Take me to the box," he said. "The one in the kitchen."

Aziraphale nodded, electing to reach down to pick up Crowley's blanket and giving it back to him first before walking into the kitchen. 

Their cottage was fairly old, so it still had a fuse box, stuck in the wall on the far side of their kitchen. The angel brought Crowley over to it, making sure he had him high enough in his arms to access it.

He didn't open it, however. A minute passed and he still hadn't, and Aziraphale was confused. "Are you detecting the issue de-" 

"Shhhh!!" Crowley lifted a finger up to his lips, effectively shutting him up. "Listen."

So Aziraphale stayed quiet and listened, and just a few seconds later he could hear what Crowley had probably wanted him to; a faint little scrabbling sound, coming from the wall, right next to the fuse box. 

Wordlessly, Crowley lifted a hand up to the wall next to the box, and an entire panel vanished under his fingertips, leaving the inside visible. As Aziraphale expected there were many wires coming to and from the fuse box, including one especially big one - which was being chewed vigorously on by an especially big rat, who stopped and looked up in surprise. 

Crowley's face immediately set into an angry scowl. "Dave!" he hissed. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Oh, it was one of his? Aziraphale couldn't keep track of all the vermin Crowley had employed in his network. 

The rat backed up and chittered something nervously. 

"I don't care how anxious you are, find something else to chew on!" 

The beast squeaked timidly, and Aziraphale took in the damp state of its fur, the way it seemed to be shivering. 

"Oh dear," he said to Crowley. "It seems he got caught up in that storm outside. He only wanted some shelter."

His boy was still glaring at Dave, and he pointed at the cupboards on the kitchen wall. "Then there's a perfectly good cabinet for him," he hissed threateningly. "Go chew on the stale biscuits in there you bad boy. Go, shoo!" 

With a final squeak that could have been anything from terrified to grateful, the rat displayed an impressive feat of acrobatic skill in leaping out of the wall, scurrying up to the cabinets and climbing into the one that was opening. Crowley huffed and pouted as he watched him disappear. 

Aziraphale turned back to the hole in the wall, and the sizable dent in the big wire. "If I fix this, do you suppose the lights will come back on?" 

"Mmhm."

With that confirmation, Aziraphale snapped and willed the wire whole and shut again. Instantly there was a flicker around them, and all the lights came back on. 

"Oh, look at that!" the angel exclaimed. "Much better, thank you Crowley."

Crowley muttered something and snapped his own fingers, and instantly the light that had been following them around disappeared, leaving them only with the warm lighting of their cottage. 

Aziraphale sighed and lifted the demon a bit in his arms. He was still pouting, but he seemed more comfortable now that the lights were back on. 

"Do you feel better little one?" Aziraphale asked, just in case. Crowley looked up at him and nodded, and he smiled. 

"Well then," he said, "I recall promising you a snack before this whole mess, did I not?" His boy nodded, and he bounced him a bit. 

"Would still like that now, baby?" he asked. "A nice snack and a movie?" 

Crowley nodded again and smiled a little, so Aziraphale kissed his nose and carried them further into the kitchen. 

"Let's see what we have then, dear. You can have anything you like, we have lots of scummy crackers and biscuits-" 

"Can I have ice cream too?" 

"Yes, you can have ice cream too. As much as you want."

"Yay!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the fic I referenced in the end notes last chapter? Same one is where the snake stuffie's name comes from. This might just be stealing ideas at this point and I'm sorry > <
> 
> But yeah, the next story I think I'll take a break from the angst, so no worries. Kudos n junk are always appreciated, I have to find a better time to upload.


	9. Voluntary (-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I didn't update last week, and I am sorry. There's just been a lot of shit going on lately, and I couldn't focus on writing with all the schoolwork I had to do.
> 
> I meant to upload something yesterday, but I heard some terrible news when I woke up, so I just. Stayed in bed for all of Easter. And I wrote this because of that shitty day. Enjoy I guess.
> 
> (You know every damn time I mean to upload these at 2pm. How the fuck is it always 4 when I do it? How? How the fuck are my time management skills that fucking bad???)
> 
> Also once again debated in having this be a (-) chapter, but really there's no references to any specific bad thoughts Crowley is having so it works.

Aziraphale found him in bed. 

It was a nice day, all things considered. It was reasonably warm out, and sunny, the kind of day that made you feel better just by looking out the window. It had Aziraphale thinking about maybe heading into the village for lunch later. 

Oh, but Crowley wasn't up yet was he? He might like to come with him, or maybe he would want to take advantage of the weather and do some work in his garden, and Aziraphale could bring him some food back. Either way he ought to ask, his husband must have gotten enough sleep by now. 

He quickly trotted up the stairs to their bedroom. The door was closed, so he knocked on it lightly with his knuckles. 

"Crowley?" he called. "My dear, are you awake?" 

He heard some kind of noise from inside, so his partner was at least starting to rouse. Aziraphale turned the knob and opened the door. 

Immediately he knew something was wrong. There were no lights on in the bedroom, but there was enough sun streaming in from the window to illuminate everything. Crowley was in bed, definitely not asleep, sitting up against the headboard. His phone was on but it was merely lying on the bed next to him. He was just sitting, still as anything except for the rise and fall of his chest through his loose sleep shirt. 

He looked up at Aziraphale as he stepped into the room. His lovely eyes looked dull and tired, despite it being morning. The angel felt that familiar worry and protectiveness flare up inside him. 

"My love, good morning," he said. "Is something wrong?" 

Crowley mumbled something and looked down. Aziraphale sighed, and closed the door behind him before walking up to the bed. He reached a hand out to his husband, and when he didn't flinch he began to stroke his hair. 

"Bad thoughts?" he asked gently. 

Crowley's eyes flicked up to his and then fell back down. "Mm, yeah, guess so," he muttered. 

Aziraphale shifted even closer to the bed until he almost had the demon in a half hug as he continued to pet him. Crowley allowed himself to lean towards him a little. 

"It's just…" he began. "S'a lot, y'know? I just woke up and, slept well 'n everything, but I just started remembering and-" his voice cracked, and Aziraphale really did pull him against his side then. 

"It's just too much," he croaked out. "I can't, I can't, m'sorry-" 

"Shhhhhh," Aziraphale hushed. "No sorries, you haven't done anything wrong. Now scooch aside, will you?" 

Crowley shifted to the other side of bed, and his angel promptly climbed in with him. It didn't matter of course, because as soon as he was in Aziraphale opened his arms, and his demon climbed onto him and let himself be hugged. 

He supposed there wouldn't be any going out for lunch today then. Oh well, it's not it would be better than spending time with Crowley, just like anything else. Even when his darling was like this, if given the option between absolutely anything else and being with Crowley, Aziraphale would always choose being with Crowley as the more favorable option. 

They nestled in comfortably, Aziraphale now resting against the headboard and Crowley leaning back against him, having turned around and settled between his legs. The angel kept his arms wrapped around his middle, and kissed the top of his head where it rested against his chin. 

"Are you comfortable?" he asked. 

"Mmhm." Crowley was most decidedly not comfortable in his own mind, so Aziraphale figured he could at least make sure he was physically relaxed. He pulled him a little closer. 

"You're not little right now, are you dear?" he inquired suddenly, thinking that this is the exact kind of day that would have his love regressing. 

"Nope," Crowley replied, popping the p a bit. Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully and rested his head on soft red hair. 

"Would you like to be?" he asked. "It might help."

"Don't usually just...do it on purpose, do I?" Crowley muttered. "S'involuntary, or whatever."

"But do you think doing it on purpose would be that hard?" Aziraphale pressed another kiss to the demon's head, this time against his cheek. "It's been a while darling, I'm sure you could use some downtime, as it were."

Crowley squirmed a little in his grasp. "Don't even know how I'd do that."

"Well I've read a lot online you know, on that website, Tumble-" Crowley snorted. "Is that not its name? Anyway, it seems like all we would need to do is get some of your little things out, help you feel small and it should happen naturally."

His husband sighed, and rested heavily back against him, pulling the duvet up to his chin. 

"Fine," he said. "I'll try, but I don't know if it'll even help."

Aziraphale nuzzled him. "We'll see then, darling."

They just rested for another minute, before Crowley finally picked up his phone and started scrolling through whatever he was looking at previously. Aziraphale encouraged him to put a cartoon on it afterwards, the kind that little Crowley loved but could still enjoy if this didn't work. They sat and watched it for a while, Aziraphale occasionally taking up his habit of pointing things or characters out to Crowley, like he would if he was small. There was no giggling at any of the funny bits, or any response to his words other than a noncommittal hum, but after an episode and a half he started to see Crowley smiling a little. 

Wordlessly the angel snapped, and a stuffie was miracled into his hands. He handed it to the demon, who took it without complaint and held it loosely as he continued to watch another cartoon he had found. 

None of this was definitive so far, but Aziraphale felt pleased enough with the progress, and could tell that Crowley might very well be regressing by this point. He knew he could probably speed up the progress with some baby talk, but he didn't want to pressure his love. He'd keep things gradual, build up to that. 

Eventually he started to feel Crowley sag even more against him. Aziraphale looked down, and saw that his eyes had fluttered shut, and the hand holding his phone was beginning to drop it. The angel gently took it from him, then moved him into a more comfortable position for a nap. He smiled as he saw Crowley hug his stuffie close before he drifted off to sleep. 

Aziraphale lifted the phone up to pause the cartoon they'd been watching, and caught sight of the time on it. Goodness, lunchtime already? No wonder he was feeling peckish, specifically for that little place he had been thinking of earlier. 

Ah, but he couldn't get up now he thought, looking down at the sweet things asleep in his arms. Though, he believed they delivered actually. Couldn't hurt to check, especially seeing as he had a tiny computer right in his hand. 

He went to the Google and typed in the name of the restaurant, and opened their website. Oh good, they did deliver. But what's this? Aziraphale clicked on another link. Oh, he could order right from this website! How convenient, then he wouldn't have to risk waking up Crowley with a phone call. 

He fiddled with the options for a bit, finding it simple to add what he wanted to his "cart." The part where he was to put in the payment however, was neither convenient nor simple, and after a few minutes he growled to himself in frustration and simply miracled all the right information in. 

But before he hit the button that would place the order, he paused and looked down at Crowley again. Quickly he added one more thing before ordering, thinking that his dear likely wouldn't be up to eating today, but still might like a nice treat. 

Aziraphale stayed in bed while he waited, thinking of other ways he could help Crowley regress as he absentmindedly stroked his hair. Every now and then the sleeping demon would let out a tiny noise and wiggle a bit, and the angel would smile. 

Aziraphale felt the delivery driver approaching right on time, and he reluctantly extracted himself from the blankets and Crowley. He settled him in the warm spot he had left and kissed his forehead, managing to make it downstairs right as the doorbell rang. 

After exchanging some polite words and a big tip with the delivery girl, he brought the food in, mouth already feeling watery at the delicious smell. He set everything down on the dining table when he heard a noise from upstairs. He wasn't sure what it was, so he stopped rustling the plastic delivery bags so he could hear. 

"Aziraphale?" a voice called through the walls and floor. 

Aziraphale heard the inflection in the voice and heard the noise from before again and connected the dots too suddenly. Oh no, Crowley was crying. 

"I'm here Crowley, I'm coming!" he called out, sprinting up the stairs towards their bedroom. He slowed down as he approached, but still hurried to open the door back up and head inside. 

Crowley was awake now and sitting up in bed, holding his stuffie tightly. Aziraphale approached him and felt an ache at the sight of tear tracks on his cheeks.

"I'm here darling, I'm here," he breathed out. "I'm so sorry I left without waking you."

Crowley sniffled. "S'okay," he mumbled, looking up at Aziraphale. The angel looked back into those serpent eyes, and saw that they were now soft in a familiar way. A soft smile made its way onto his face at the realization, and he carefully climbed back into bed next to his boy. 

"It's alright now, darling," he spoke softly, holding his arms open. "I'm here, I promise. Come here little one."

Crowley's breath hitched and he crawled right into Aziraphale's arms. His angel wasted no time in pulling him into his lap, holding him tight. The felt another sob escape his throat, and he clutched his stuffie tightly as he tried to take in sharp breaths. 

"It's okay, it's all okay now," Aziraphale crooned softly. "My little Anthony, so very brave, so very strong. Everything's alright my dear."

He felt Crowley starting to calm down, and shifted him closer in his arms. The way he was looking up at him all but confirmed for Aziraphale that he had successfully regressed. Though admittedly, he wished it had been a more pleasant experience. Carefully he wiped away the tears from sharp cheekbones, and fluttered light kisses all over his face. 

"Beautiful boy," he cooed. "You are little now, yes?" 

He didn't receive a verbal answer, but Crowley did sniffle and bring his thumb up to his mouth to suck on it, which was just as good in Aziraphale's opinion. 

He held the demon fully now, cradling him in his arms while he curled up against him. Aziraphale sighed and pressed another kiss to the top of his head. 

"Shall we get snuggled up again dearest?" he asked, stroking through soft red curls. 

"No," a muffled voice spoke against his chest, surprising Aziraphale. 

"No?" 

Crowley picked his head up, whined and started tugging on his caregiver's shirt in the direction of the door. "I wanna plaaaaayyy."

The angel found himself pleasantly surprised, and he held Crowley even closer. 

"Go downstairs, then?" 

"Mmhm."

Aziraphale easily got up with his boy secure in his arms, heading out of their dark bedroom. As they reached the top of the stairs Crowley picked his head up a bit and sniffed the air, tongue poking out as well. 

"Oh, I had my lunch delivered dear," Aziraphale said, realizing now that he had been fully prepared to leave everything down here to stay with Crowley instead. "I didn't think you'd be hungry but I did get you a milkshake."

The demon turned to him with a soft gasp and a tiny twinkle in his eyes.

"Chocolate or vanilla?" 

"Chocolate, love."

And suddenly Crowley was grinning wide, and letting a happy noise leave his throat as he snuggled back against his angel. 

"Thank youuu," he cooed out, kissing his cheek. Aziraphale promptly kissed him back and he giggled. 

"You're very welcome, my dear boy," he said with a bright smile. "I love you very much."

"I 'ove you toooo."

It still wasn't a very bright day of course, not counting the weather. But they hadn't spent it all in bed, which was wonderful by Aziraphale' s standards. He was sure Crowley liked snuggling in the sun better as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who actually reads these. Btw, I'm gonna start marking chapters that can be read independently of Repossession with a (-), so look out for that. Hope you're all staying safe.


	10. Idea (-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been another slow week, so have another small chapter. I've had this idea in my head for a while, so I figured now would be a good time to write it and put it up.

There was commotion of sorts, which was unusual for their quiet little cottage. Aziraphale paid it no mind, mostly, the fact that his husband was home and small for the moment more than enough of an explanation in his mind. 

He kept on leafing through an old favorite historical novel of his, trying his best to pay little attention to the footsteps that rushed past through the rooms of the cottage, followed by the sound of giggling (a sound that admittedly, most would rather call "cackling"). Though after about ten minutes of this his curiosity won out, and the angel let out a fond sigh as he placed a bookmark in his book and closed it for now. Setting it to the side, he pushed himself out of his chair and stretched before going to check on his dearest person. 

Aziraphale had been listening enough to hear a pattern in the path being worn into the floor (and occasionally ceiling) of their cottage. So instead of chasing after the speed demon in their home, he merely stood by the front door and waited. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later a dark blur came barreling down the hallway that led to the greenhouse. The sight of an angel in his path didn't slow Crowley down; Aziraphale had only a split second to watch the bright grin on his face widen before he leapt into his open arms at full speed. 

He caught Crowley expertly, the momentum making him spin around a few times before the demon could settle in his arms. His boy giggled and laughed, nuzzling into his chest as they slowed to a stop. 

Aziraphale smiled himself, kissing Crowley's cheek and shifting him into a more comfortable hold. 

"So much energy!" he said. "What's got my little one so excited, hmm?" 

Still giggling, Crowley lifted up a small cardboard box, which Aziraphale only just realized he was holding. 

"Have an idea!" he exclaimed, starting to rip the top off the box with his talons. 

"Oh?" Aziraphale looked at the logo of a delivery company on the box before it was torn away in the flurry of claws. "Did you order something love?" 

"Mhm." Crowley eagerly opened the torn cardboard flaps, pulling something out and tossing the box away. It was a small blue container, and Aziraphale squinted through his glasses to read the label. 

"...Hair dye?" he asked. 

"Yep!" Crowley grinned, holding the small jar up. He ran a claw under one word on the label. "Se-mi-per-ma-nent. Better than temporary, but not permanent."

The angel suddenly recalled a remark made some weeks ago to his boy, something he had said about purple hair while the demon was too little to input his own half of their conversation. Yes it had gotten a laugh out of him then, but had he really remembered such a little thing? 

Aziraphale gave his demon a little bounce. "Are you going to use that on your own hair love?" he asked. 

"Mmhm."

"You know I did mean it when I said it wouldn't turn your hair purple, yes?" 

"Yeah yeah." Crowley started unscrewing the cap on the jar, and to Aziraphale's relief there was a plastic seal underneath. "But I think it'll make a really cool blue or something, if it isn't purple. Which it could be! I looked it up, mixing hair colors is like mixing paints."

"That doesn't sound right, dear."

"Well it's true!" Crowley tilted his head up to his angel and put on his best big eyes. "Come help me put it on?" 

Well now, how could anyone resist a request from a face like that? 

Aziraphale sighed and leaned down to lightly kiss Crowley's nose. "Alright dear boy, just tell me what you need."

His boy let out a happy noise and tugged on his shirt, directing him up to the bathroom. 

\---

"Hmm." 

They had carefully gone through the needed process in the past hour. Hair had been washed and heated, Aziraphale had put on rubber gloves to liberally apply the deep blue dye to red curls, had even wrapped it all up in tinfoil for the half hour wait while the dye settled in. Said half hour was now up, and the tinfoil had been removed, and Crowley's hair miracled to be rid of the excess dye with a snap. And, well. 

Where the dye had taken to was not any kind of blue or purple, but rather a very muddy color. Aziraphale supposed it could be considered a kind of burgundy, but it boasted none of the attractiveness of the color. Just a very ugly looking color indeed. 

"Well then. Hmm."

He was standing to the side of Crowley, who was sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at the results of his hair with an expression mixed with disappointment and disgust. Aziraphale had been half expecting tears, but this was- it was-

"Well then my dear that's. That's quite- quite a color-" The angel couldn't hold his snickering back any longer, the whole situation combined with Crowley's expression altogether tickling his funny bone too much. He bent over a bit from the effort of keeping his chortles to a minimum, trying to subtly cover his mouth. 

"Oh darling," he choked out. "Aha, oh dear, I am terribly sorry-" 

When he leaned back up he was greeted to the sight of crossed arms and a piercing glare from a demon in an adorable onesie and ridiculous looking hair, and suddenly Aziraphale was laughing harder than he had all week. He actually had to sit down he was laughing so hard, holding his gut and having to wipe a stray tear from his eye. 

When he calmed down enough to quite some of the laughter he wiped his eyes and looked back up. Crowley's gaze was still locked on him and was _livid_ , snake's eyes glaring daggers that Aziraphale could practically feel in his skin, while his face was set somewhere between a scowl and a pout. If he had been big then Aziraphale would currently be fearing spousal wrath, but as it was he thought he looked absolutely adorable. 

"Oh- oh my love, I am sorry, I do mean it," he giggled out, pushing himself up. "I do apologize, I'm sorry this didn't work like you wanted. I'll fix that up for you, why don't I?" 

With a snap from him all traces of the dye vanished from Crowley's hair, leaving only the original lovely red in his curls. The demon huffed and glared at him for another second before turning his back to him in his seat, grumbling to himself. 

After a minute of the silent treatment Aziraphale started to worry that he really had upset Crowley, but then he saw the figure in front of him stretch out a bit as a little yawn escaped his lips. The angel's thoughts fit together, figuring that either way he had a chance to make it up to his boy. 

He walked around to Crowley's side, just enough to see his face, still grumpy as anything. "Honey pie, what if I put you down for a nap now, hm? You're probably tired from all that running earlier."

"Hmph." Crowley turned in his seat again so his back was once more facing Aziraphale. His caregiver came a little closer, and leaned towards his ear. 

"I can fill up your bottle for you," he spoke softly. His boy wiggled just a bit in his seat but let out another displeased hum, so he leaned in til his mouth was right by his ear. 

"And we can cuddllllllle," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Crowley's tattoo. The demon remained stubbornly stiff for a few more seconds, then let out a sigh. 

"Fine," he mumbled grumpily. But he did turn his head to give Aziraphale's ear a kiss of his own, which was a good sign. 

"I'll go fill up your bottle then, then we'll get tucked in," the angel said, walking out of the bathroom. He went downstairs towards the kitchen, and heard Crowley following behind him. 

He had washed his bottle recently, so it was already in the kitchen. Aziraphale plucked it and the top off the drying rack, setting them down on the counter before opening the fridge. Crowley padded in and sat down at the kitchen table, resting his head on one hand. 

Aziraphale quickly pulled out a carton of milk, filled up Crowley's bottle and put the carton back in the fridge. But before he could screw the cap on, his eyes flicked over to a recent baking purchase he had made, and something clicked in his head. Oh, brilliant. 

"Little love?" he called over his shoulder. Crowley's head perked up from where it had been starting to slump against his hand. Aziraphale turned around and clasped his hands together. 

"I have a bit of an idea," he said. The demon made a curious sound as his angel brought over his bottle, and the thing that had caught his eye; a set of food dye bottles. 

"Bear with me dear," he said while pulling out a bottle of pink dye. He opened the cap, and Crowley watched as he very, very carefully squeezed a drop of the dye into his bottle. Aziraphale picked it up and swirled the milk inside around a bit, and his love's eyes widened as it turned a light and pretty shade of pink. 

Crowley gasped and grabbed his bottle, and Aziraphale smiled. 

"Oh good, it's just as cute as I imagined," he said. He turned around to the fridge and opened it again. "Ah, but I was envisioning a lighter shade, like those flowers in your garden. If I add more milk then maybe-" 

He heard the sound of a ruffled package and a cap being opened, and stopped reaching for the milk carton again to turn around. "Darling, what are you-" 

He stopped at the sight of Crowley, who had grabbed a bottle of black dye from the set and was now squeezing a generous few drops into his bottle. He set it down and reached for the top of his bottle, and Aziraphale hastily closed the fridge. 

"Ah, dear, are you sure you should-" 

He didn't get to say anything else before Crowley quickly screwed the cap on his bottle and started shaking it. The demon giggled (cackled) as the liquid inside turned from a lovely pale pink to an inky black. 

He looked very pleased with his finished product, and Aziraphale couldn't find it in himself to be anything but fondly exasperated with his boy's antics. He went over to him and ruffled his hair. 

"Did you make a nice little demon drink?" he asked. Crowley looked up at him and nodded, already having started to drink from his bottle. 

"Ready for our nap then?" With another nod Aziraphale scooped Crowley up into his arms, and started carrying him up to their bedroom. 

He looked down at the little thing in his arms as he climbed the stairs, happily sucking his bottle with the better angle. 

"Is it yummy dear?" he found himself asking. 

The demon pulled the bottle out of his mouth so he could grin up at Aziraphale with teeth coated in dark liquid. 

"Little monster." Crowley giggled in his arms (not cackling), and kept drinking from his bottle as he and his caregiver headed for a nice nap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are healthy.


	11. Cupcakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back. And I did intend to have a longer chapter up after these two weeks, but stuff's been happening (we moved!) and it's taking longer to write than I expected. So have this short story instead, I'll have the one I've been working on up next week. Also I fucked up the upload time again but this week I have the excuse of a headache and my dad yelling at me. I think the universe really just wants to fuck up all my plans.

Crowley inhaled sharply as he faded into consciousness, suddenly finding himself wrapped in a soft starry blanket on top of a duvet, clutching a stuffed animal, his face already wet with tears. 

It had been a more violent variety of nightmare tonight than usual. The demon could still feel the whip slicing his back, his wings, himself naked except for a painful collar and completely powerless. 

He found himself crying as soon as things came into focus, hugging the stuffie in his arms even harder and sobbing into its fur. He sobbed and keened until his throat hurt, until he had to switch to crying into his blankie to soak up the tears. 

Minutes in he whined and rubbed his eyes, suppressing his pain just enough to really take in his surroundings. This was prompted by the realization that popped into his head that there was no angelic being currently hugging him, wiping away his tears and whispering sweet reassurances to him. It quickly became apparent that said being was not currently in bed with him, or in the room at all for that matter. 

Crowley sniffled and whimpered, rubbing at his eyes again. He forced himself out of bed, finding himself softly babbling for no particular reason other than the fact that he was currently too little and upset to mutter to himself with any real words. He quickly snapped to have a favorite little outfit of his cover him up, grabbed his blanket and stuffie and dragged himself to the door. 

He kept whimpering as he opened it and stepped out into the flat. He and Aziraphale were having another week back in London, and for the most part it had been absolutely lovely so far, so he was currently in the flat above the bookshop. Crowley shuffled out into the sitting room as quickly as he could, letting the tears fill his eyes again. 

"Mommy," he cried out with a sob. "Mummy, mommy-"

He stopped in the cozy space and looked around, confused again. He saw no concerned angel rushing up to him from wherever he was, pulling him into his arms and asking what was wrong. Or if he wasn't fast enough in doing so Crowley could run over and fall in front of him, clutch onto his pants leg and sob into the fabric. 

But there was no such angel anywhere in sight. The demon couldn't even hear or sense him anywhere else in the flat. 

He hugged his blanket closer while quieting his sobs again. He was down in the bookshop then maybe?

Doing his best to take in tiny sharp breaths and ignore the phantom pain that was still present, Crowley set off for the stairs that led down into the shop proper, still dragging his stuffie behind him by one of its limbs (it was a very large one, a great big unicorn that Aziraphale had won for him at a fair. Truthfully the angel wasn't very good at most of those carnival games, and it was usually Crowley who liked to win cheesy prizes for him. But it had been a prize for the strongman game that you smack with a hammer, and skill isn't really a factor with that one now is it? Aziraphale was strong, and with precision enough to slam a hammer down onto a target, and had all the motivation he needed in the fact that Crowley was little at the time and had been looking at the unicorn with longing. He hit the bell at the top each on each of the three tries they gave him, was given a unicorn, and received his own reward in the happy squeal Crowley had given him when he took the huge thing and hugged it tight - and then proceeded to hug Aziraphale himself and whisper "I love you" in that sweet little voice he had when he was small). 

When Crowley made it down among the cluttered bookshelves, he found that he still couldn't see or sense his caregiver. He whined and bit down on his thumb, starting to grow frustrated. Aziraphale always told him if he was leaving, so why wouldn't-

The demon's eyes widened and he bit his thumb hard enough to draw blood. Had something happened to Aziraphale? Had someone taken him? Heaven and Hell were under strict instruction to leave them alone, yes, but what if someone had gotten curious as to how enforced that policy would actually be? Not to mention humans that could do an impromptu summoning, or anything of the sort-

Crowley's mind swam with worst case scenarios, and he rushed into the front of the bookshop. There wasn't anyone else around (which was good considering the very conspicuous giant unicorn plushie he was holding), and the shop's sign was flipped to "closed". Alright, Crowley didn't think he was planning to open today anyways-

His eyes then fell on the front desk, and a piece of paper that was propped up and had "Crowley" written on the front, in Aziraphale's delicate handwriting. 

The demon ran over, almost knocking some books over in the process. He grabbed the paper and flipped it over, revealing more writing on the other side. 

_ Crowley,  _

_ My love, I apologize for leaving without waking you, but I have been contacted about an emergency. An associate has recently received a collection of old first-edition autobiographies that she's been dying to get her hands on, but has found that they are all in terrible condition and in need of immediate repair. She contacted me for my skills, and you know I do hate to see a book fall apart. I shan't be long, I promise. I love you.  _

Crowley read over the letter three times before he felt the worries in his head fully recede. However, his relief was quickly replaced with annoyance. His angel had just rushed off without a word, without leaving a letter right by their bed instead of down here? What, were some dusty old books more important than him? And they were supposed to make cupcakes together today! 

He sniffled and nuzzled his face into his unicorn. The nightmare and the memories it had brought back were still hurting him, and Aziraphale had up and left and wasn't here to make things better. 

"Stupid…" he mumbled into his stuffie, feeling more irritated by the minute. "Stupidhead angel…"

He sat down on the floor, hugging his blankie and stuffie and the letter from Aziraphale, finding comfort in it being from him no matter how cross he was with him currently. 

Today of all days, hmph. They had gotten all the ingredients for cupcakes yesterday, and Aziraphale had promised that they'd make some today as soon as he woke up. So much for that. 

Crowley shook his head and rubbed the remaining wetness from his eyes. Well, why did his plans have to change just because of this? He could make cupcakes, he didn't need Aziraphale. 

With a grunt, he got up and started heading back to the stairs that led up to their flat, dragging his blankie and unicorn with him again. He was gonna go up to the kitchen, and he would make delicious cupcakes, all by himself. That would show the angel. 

He huffed when he made it upstairs and into the kitchen, grabbing his apron and setting his blankie aside. Before getting anything out he quickly miracled a pink patterned bandaid into his hands, wrapping it around where he had bit into his thumb. So cute. He didn't need to be adorable for Aziraphale, he could be cute as hell just for himself. Grumbling under his breath, he opened the fridge to take out the butter. 

"Stupid mommy…"

\---

Aziraphale thanked and tipped the cab driver after he dropped him off at the bookshop. He walked up to the front door and didn't even pretend to use keys to open it as he stepped inside. 

"Crowley?" he called out? "Dear, I'm home!"

He received no answer, which wasn't surprising, but he had wanted to announce his presence just in case Crowley was down in the shop. He did feel bad about having to leave so suddenly, but he figured his love would be okay on his own, even if he was still regressed today. In fact he had figured that he might sleep through his whole absence, which was admittedly a bit longer than expected. 

The angel quickly walked through the shop to the stairs that led up to the flat, setting his restoration kit and coat down on the way up. He would put them back in their proper places, but right now his priority was checking on Crowley. 

Aziraphale had planned to look in the bedroom first, but when he opened the door to the flat he heard sounds coming from the kitchen, and just barely smelled something sweet. 

"Darling?" he called, walking over and peering into the small kitchen. 

Crowley was in fact in there, wearing an apron over a very cute moon-themed outfit. He was sitting on a stool at one of the counters, vigorously mixing a bowl full of some kind of batter with a grumpy expression on his face (which he hadn't had the whole time he'd been baking, but he'd put it on as soon as he'd heard Aziraphale come in so he'd think he had). His biggest unicorn plushie was sitting on the counter, and Crowley's phone was propped up against it with a recipe on the screen. 

Aziraphale smiled at the sight and went up to his demon, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Hello dear," he said. 

"Mm." Crowley's face was still sour, and firmly facing the counter and not Aziraphale. He finished mixing what was in the bowl, tapping the spoon against the side before pulling over a tray filled with cupcake wrappers. 

"Oh? Are you making cupcakes?" the angel asked. 

"Mmhm," Crowley replied, still not looking at him as he lifted the bowl up and started to pour the contents into the wrappers. "All by myself, since  _ someone  _ wasn't here."

Aziraphale felt a pang of guilt, suddenly remembering their baking plans. Oh, no wonder his boy was cross with him. 

"Oh my dearest, I'm so sorry," he said, his smile from before now fallen. "I didn't think you would be awake already, and it really was an emergency. I suppose you found my letter?" 

"Mmm." Crowley pointed behind himself while still pouring, and Aziraphale looked over and saw the letter resting on the kitchen table. He turned back back to Crowley, guilt making him feel worse by the minute.

"And I'm very sorry for not leaving it with you in bed," he said. "I was in such a hurry I completely forgot to tell you where I was going until I was already about out the door. I wrote it quickly and just left it there, supposing you would find it either way. But that was careless of me, and I really am very sorry, my love."

Crowley continued to give him the silent treatment for a few seconds, then after another filled wrapper he let out a sigh. He reached a hand up to Aziraphale's face and pulled it down, tilting his head to press a light peck to his cheek. 

"Silly mummy," he murmured, letting go and turning back to his cupcake tray. The one he had been filling was full, so he set it to the side and pulled out another one. Aziraphale's smile returned as that cross expression finally broke. 

"Yes, I suppose I am quite silly aren't I?" he said, leaning down and nuzzling Crowley's cheek and neck. Crowley giggled, so he supposed the worst of his irritation with him was over. 

The angel was about to give him another kiss, but paused. There on the demon's cheek was the unmistakable look of dried tears. On the other one too. He carefully lifted a hand up and cupped his cheek, tracing the tear tracks with his thumb. 

"Honey?" he murmured softly. Crowley squirmed a little under his touch. He had forgotten to wash his face, caught up as he was in baking and spite. 

"...Had a nightmare," he mumbled, mouth stiffened again as he continued to pour batter into cupcake wrappers. Aziraphale's face fell again and the guilt came back. 

"Oh, my darling." He pulled Crowley into a hug from behind. "I'm so, so sorry."

The demon sniffled. He set down his bowl and turned around in Aziraphale's embrace, burying his face in his warm chest. He was all out of tears, but finally getting the cuddles he had been denied earlier was making him clutch tightly at his caregiver, whimpering as he nuzzled against him. 

"My little love, oh I'm so very sorry," Aziraphale was still saying above him. "I should have woken you up before I left, I'm sorry."

Crowley sniffled again and pressed a kiss over the angel's heart. "It'sss okay," he said into his shirt. He let himself be hugged for a few more seconds before turning around and squirming out of the strong arms enough to continue pouring the batter. Aziraphale kept a loose hold around his waist. 

"You know dear, if you ever need me and I'm not here, you can always call my mobile," he said. 

"You dun always pick up," Crowley said, finishing off the last of the wrappers. He lowered his head. "And, I dun wanna bother you."

Aziraphale tightened his hold around his boy just a bit. "Darling, you won't ever bother me by wanting to talk with me," he said firmly. "Such a thing only brings me joy. And from now on I will always answer my phone when you call."

Crowley tilted his head up to him, looking soft and just a bit unsure. He lifted a fist up with only the pinky finger out. 

"Promise?" 

Aziraphale held his own pinky out and linked it with his, shaking their hands up and down. 

"I promise."

Crowley's face relaxed as their hands fell back down, and he turned contentedly back to his cupcake trays. Now he knew Aziraphale really did mean it when he said he'd always pick up when he called. Pinky promises were very serious business, after all. 

The angel kissed the top of the demon's head. "Is there anything I can still do to help with the cupcakes?" he asked. 

Crowley hummed in thought, then handed him the two cupcake trays. "Put these in the oven," he said. "Then come help me make the frosting."

Aziraphale smiled, then took the trays and dutifully carried them over to the oven. Once they were in he turned back to Crowley, who had pulled up a recipe for frosting on his phone. 

The next hour was spent making pink frosting, laughing when they got the ingredients on each other and then decorating the cupcakes once they were baked and cooled. And if Crowley giggled and squeaked when Aziraphale intentionally got some sprinkles and frosting on his cheek and proceeded to lick it off - well, that was a memory for him to keep in his heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe y'all. Thanks for leaving kudos n comments.


	12. (art)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied. And I'm sorry. I haven't uploaded a chapter in weeks, and I know I don't have to, you're all so sweet. It's just that I said I'd get the next one up in a week, and I don't feel good about going back on my word. School's just been pretty stressful lately and I've had some writer's block, but I'm getting over it. Anyways, I'm gonna try to get the next chapter up by Sunday, but in case I can't, here's a little drawing I did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to anyone who reads my self indulgent bullshit, and once again I'm sorry for the weeks of silence. I'm only apologizing because I know how much it sucks to be waiting so long for a fic to update. Thanks for the comments and kudos as always~.


	13. Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hiatus is over! Thanks to everyone for being so patient and sweet. School finally being over is definitely gonna give me more time to write, so I'll try for more frequent updates. Not sure how frequent, though y'all can at least expect a short chapter next week.
> 
> Also a disclaimer, this chapter contains negative internal thoughts during a panic attack/disassociation brought on by mild sexual harassment. However, I do indeed mean mild, and the thoughts are talked down from before the ending. I promise that I will never end a story unhappily.

It was a  _ lovely  _ day. It was warm and sunny, on that cusp when spring is first starting to turn into summer. 

Aziraphale felt giddy, not just from the weather but from what the day had planned. It had ended up being a perfect day for a lovely little fair that the village was having on the main street. It was a simple little affair, but the road promised to be lined with booths full of food and games and local businesses trying to showcase new products, and who knows what else. 

Things had been quiet lately, and a nice event like this was just the break the angel could use in the normal routine of things. Not that he was ever particularly excited to leave the comfort of his solitude and books and go out among so many people, but mingling every now and then really let him appreciate not having to do so most of the time. 

Yes, what a nice way to spend the day indeed. And Aziraphale would already be heading over, if not for one little thing. 

He heard humming from the garden outside, and couldn't help but smile softly to himself. One little thing indeed. 

Crowley had woken up that morning whining and reaching for his box full of comfort items. Luckily it hadn't been for any cause of unpleasant dreams or memories. He'd just woken up and felt, well, soft - or at least that's what Aziraphale could glean from the mental message Crowley had sent him while babbling and flapping his hands adorably. 

Little or not, he had decided to use the good weather today to do some work in his garden, and he had been out there for about half an hour before Aziraphale remembered the fair. 

He was thinking about how to broach the subject with the demon. Crowley didn't like crowds any day of the week, but he especially hated going out in public when he was regressed. Whether it had more to do with him generally feeling more vulnerable when he was small or the constant anxiety that he would slip up somehow and let everyone know what headspace he was in, Aziraphale didn't know, but he knew that more often than not it translated to them staying inside during little time, or only going out to isolated areas. 

Of course, he had also occasionally been able to convince Crowley to let him bring him to places that promised fun when he was little, and he had quite enjoyed himself those few times, like on that date at the science museum in London or that big aquarium (he smiled as he remembered Crowley pressing his face against the glass of the dolphin enclosure, giggling as they swam by to say hello to him). And the street fair promised games and all sorts of fun things he was sure his boy would love. 

Of course, it would ultimately be Crowley's decision. If he wanted to stay home then Aziraphale would have no problem with staying in today too. Of course, he supposed he could always leave Crowley here and go himself, bring him back some candy and a toy or two. But, Aziraphale mused, that really didn't sound as appealing. Truthfully a great deal of the enjoyment he found in spending a day out somewhere fun was getting to spend it with Crowley. Call him a clingy husband, but a relationship almost 6,000 years in the making and forbidden for longer would make anyone eager to spend as much time with their love as possible. 

Well, he could at least ask the little demon. He got up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, doing some work on fixing up a book binding. He took a second to stretch out his corporation before walking over to the door that led out to the garden, the humming from before now replaced with the familiar sound of hissed threats. 

Aziraphale opened the door and stepped out into the bright light. He spotted Crowley to the right in the row of new tomato plants, wielding a spade threateningly at them. He was wearing some very cute overalls over a shirt with a cartoon sun on it, and a sun hat over loosely pulled back hair. 

The demon's face was set in a scowl, but as soon as Aziraphale stepped outside he looked up at him and his face broke into a bright smile. The angel found himself smiling right back. 

"Hello dear," he greeted. "Keeping the rebellious sprouts in check?" 

Crowley went back to glaring at the baby tomato plants. "They're supposed to be taller by now," he spat. He stabbed his trowel in the dirt next to the second sprout in the row. 

"This one is the only one that's tall enough." He gestured to the little sprout, which was at least two inches taller than the rest of them. Aziraphale sat down on his heels next to him, careful not to let anything other than his shoes actually touch the dirt. 

" I see," he said. "And the rest aren't living up to your standards?" 

"No they're not!" Crowley growled, grabbing the trowel and dragging it along the row of tomato sprouts menacingly while glaring at them. "And they'd better shape up soon if they know what's good for 'em."

Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle. Even when he was little, the plants in the garden and the house couldn't escape Crowley' s wrath. Though admittedly, they could at least rest a bit easier knowing that the worst they could expect from a small Crowley was merely a good scolding. 

"So…" Aziraphale tugged on his waistcoat a bit (old nervous habit, he really ought to try curbing it a bit). "My darling, did you know the big main street in the village is closed to cars today?" 

"Mm, is it?" Crowley hummed absentmindedly, taking a break from his gardening tyranny to kiss Aziraphale's cheek. "Can't go to that tall lady's cafe for lunch then."

"Well- actually we could little one, it's not closed for construction or anything of the sort, but because there's a fair today. You may have seen the posters around?" 

"Oh yeah." The demon set his spade down and brushed some excess dirt off of his gloves. "Was that today?" 

"Yes dear." The angel shifted a little to avoid falling in the dirt. "I was thinking of heading over there myself, see what exactly is going on. It sounds like there will be a lot of fun things to do. I was wondering if you would like to come with me?" 

Aziraphale prepared for the slight uncomfortable shift in Crowley's posture, the small "No thank you" that would leave his lips, turned down in a guilty frown that he would have to kiss off while assuring him that it was more than okay if he didn't want to go. 

But instead, Crowley hummed a little and shook the dirt off his spade before dropping it back into his bucket of gardening supplies. He patted the dirt around the tomato sprouts down for a few seconds, and then said, "Okay."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Okay? You'd like to go?" 

"Uh-huh." Crowley took his gloves off and put them in the bucket too. "I'm all done out here. Just gimme a minute to change my clothes."

"Alright dear," Aziraphale said, standing up. He reached a hand out to his boy, who took it and stood up too. "Just let me know when you're ready and we'll head over."

"Mmkay," the demon said, brushing some dirt off of the knees of his overalls. He gave a quick kiss to Aziraphale's cheek before rushing inside, kicking his boots off on the mat. "Love you!" 

Aziraphale was dazed slightly by Crowley's fast pace, but after a second he found himself smiling brightly to himself. 

"Love you too!" he called out, but Crowley had already disappeared up the stairs. The angel chuckled and went inside himself. What a pleasant surprise this was, that they would have a nice outing today. He supposed he ought to get ready himself. 

About ten minutes later Aziraphale sat waiting in the sitting room, having put on shoes and a light waistcoat. Truthfully all of his "getting ready" had only taken a few minutes, so he was just waiting for Crowley. 

Just as he was about to pick up a book while he waited, he heard footsteps coming from upstairs. He looked up and a second later his husband came into view, bounding down the stairs. 

"I'm ready!" his demon said. He had on his usual tight dark jeans, but instead his typical brand of fashion he just had just put on a plain, loose T-shirt and a thin black shawl draped around his shoulders. He had a pair of sunglasses on and his snakeskin "boots," which didn't have any heels at the moment. 

Aziraphale beamed at him as he reached the floor. "Oh, don't you look lovely."

Crowley blushed a little and looked down at his feet. He mumbled something that Aziraphale couldn't quite hear. 

"I'm sorry my dear, what was that?" he asked, standing up from the couch and walking over to Crowley, who remained firmly looking down behind his shades. 

"...'M not too cute, am I?" he muttered, just loud enough for Aziraphale to hear this time. The angel softened his smile and took a thin hand in his own. 

"No love-love," he said, leaning up to kiss Crowley's forehead. "Well, you're always cute of course, but everyone will think you're big my dear, I promise."

He could see behind the dark lenses that his boy did look up at him then, and gave him a small smile that made him look a bit more relaxed. 

"Mm'kay." He tugged on Aziraphale's hand. "Let's go then."

The angel followed him to the door, with only a brief pause as Crowley fished his car keys out of an end table drawer. 

"Are you alright with driving, love?" Aziraphale asked. 

"Yep," Crowley said, popping the 'p' as he led them out of the cottage. 

For the record, Aziraphale  _ had  _ been granted driving privileges during his husband's little time, but he didn't have to all the time - and really, he's honored to have been given any sort of okay for driving the Bentley. 

Of course he'd like to drive all the time when being a caregiver, but he wasn't going to take away any more agency from Crowley than he had to. The demon had already gotten upset the first time Aziraphale had asked if he was okay to drive while regressed, thinking that meant his spouse wouldn't ever take him seriously again even when he was big, so the angel quickly learned how to let him know that he would always trust him no matter what headspace he was in. 

Aziraphale let himself into the passenger's side as Crowley started the car. He set a small knapsack he had brought with him down in front of the seat, grateful that Crowley hadn't noticed it. He had put a few emergency supplies in there for his boy, just in case - two small stuffies and a pacifier, perfect for comfort. 

Crowley backed the Bentley out of the driveway and sped off down the road, with slightly less reckless abandon than usual. 

"Just head into town then, yeah?" he asked. 

"Yes dear boy, we'll park by the big grocery store and walk over."

"Okay." Crowley turned onto the road that would lead into the more dense part of the village. He still drove slower than usual, but that by no means meant "slow", or even "reasonable", and Aziraphale found himself hanging onto his seat for dear life. 

\---

As Crowley drove up to where the main street had been blocked off for the fair, he could see a bustle of activity and bright colors, much more so than usual. People were walking all around, past tents and booths set up all along the sides of the street, mixed in with some food trucks and other things. Children were dragging their parents along with one hand and holding balloons and toys in the other, their faces clearly sticky with the remnants of ice cream or some kind of greasy meat (or both). 

It was a bit noisy, but not so much that Crowley couldn't handle it. Even looked like- well, fun. 

His big, far more demonic self shuddered at the admission of anything this bright and family-friendly being "fun." His little self was currently blowing that self a raspberry. 

"Oh, how charming!" Aziraphale said, taking in the sights around them. "Pull in here little darling, we'll park."

Crowley turned into the lot adjacent to the grocery store and realized that it was already full. He could have just miracled it so that some family would realize they suddenly needed to go home, but he saw some cars parked on the grass behind the lot and drove over there instead. 

"Oh, is this allowed?" Aziraphale asked as Crowley pulled in behind a car on the grass. "We can find somewhere else to park."

"No need, it's close enough," Crowley said, trying to convince his voice to lower back down its usual octave. "Besides, s'not like anywhere else this close will have more spaces."

"Right then." The angel waited until the Bentley was parked and then opened his door. "Shall we, then?" 

Crowley pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and opened his own door, stepping out onto the grass. Luckily there were enough clouds in the sky that it wasn't unbearably sunny, but he was still grateful for his glasses. 

Aziraphale started walking towards the fair and he followed, just a bit nervous at all the people they were approaching. 

Just a bit though, really. Make no mistake, he had actually wanted to come to this, see what the humans were doing and spread some mischief and such. Aziraphale wouldn't have made him come if he didn't want to anyway (though there had been that one horrible time early in his recovery when the angel did make him go out into London for a while by himself, thinking it would be good for him. But he hadn't known about age regression yet. If he had he could have just clung onto Aziraphale's legs and begged him not to make him go, and the angel would have held him and said he didn't have to, apologize for even suggesting such a thing). 

It's just that…he's better with crowds than he used to be, but he's still not very fond of being around too many people. Too much risk of reminding him of Heaven, being made to run around as an errand boy while surrounded by cold and suspicious stares. He can't stand it, he hates the feeling, hates being around so many people, especially without Aziraphale-

The scent of a nearby food truck hit Crowley's nostrils as they got closer to the street. He looked around to take in what he had seen from the car up close, all the people milling about, talking and having fun. 

And somehow, his nerves abated. He didn't know why but, it might not be as bad right now because- well, he  _ knows  _ these people. Try as he and Aziraphale might to avoid establishing connections with very mortal humans, the people in this village had managed to worm their way into their lives. 

He could see that tall lady who runs the cafe giving water to the people running one of the hotter food trucks. There under a tent was one of the old women in the local knitting club, handing out flyers and showing people basic techniques. He spotted the single parent whose kids he had helped find in the park last week, with all three of them as they tried to win at a little shooting game. These weren't strangers who hated and looked down on him, they were his neighbors. Ones kept at a very safe distance with how far out of the way his and Aziraphale's cottage was, but he did know them at least. They were just humans, humans who had primarily shown him kindness since he's moved here. They were not a threat to him. 

"Little love? Are you coming?" 

Aziraphale's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked at the angel standing in front of him. He was smiling gently, and holding his hand out to him. 

"Hold my hand darling," he said, "so we can stay safe together."

Crowley stared at the offered hand and blushed, the rest of his nerves calming. This wasn't an angel he was being forced to follow behind with his head bowed, through a cold office full of unkind faces. This was Aziraphale, who wanted to hold his hand and walk next to him in a fun street fair, because he loved him and wanted to keep him safe. 

With a nod he took his angel's hand and wrapped his own around it, walking close by his side onto the road. 

They were at the start of everything, so it only made sense to start walking down the street to see all that the fair had to offer. They carefully slipped past clusters of people moving all about as they started walking, staying close the entire time. 

Crowley felt Aziraphale squeeze his hand as he subtly tilted his face up to his partner's. 

"If you see anything you like," he whispered into Crowley's ear, "just tell me and I'll get it for you, okay?" 

"Okay," Crowley whispered back, feeling his face warm up again at his caregiver's spoiling. 

"And if you want to leave at any time, tell me right away and we'll go straight home, alright honey?" 

"Mmhm." The demon shuffled even closer to the angel's side, suddenly extremely grateful for both his dark sunglasses and the bright sun that could be used as an excuse for how red his face was. No matter how much Aziraphale spoiled him with adoration and attentiveness, he didn't think he'd ever get used to it. 

There was a lot to see as they walked through the crowds. Interspersed within the tents for boring organizations and the occasional landscaping business (Crowley wasn't sure a landscaper had ever gotten business from an unrelated event booth) were genuinely lovely handmade clothes and jewelry, games for kids and parents and of course lots of food. Crowley spared a quick longing look at a tent that was selling toffee apples, but luckily Aziraphale didn't seem to notice. He was supposed to be acting big right now, after all. 

Some people said hello to them and stopped for a chat a few times (which the demon was luckily able to have minimal participation in), but for the most part he and the angel managed to keep to themselves as they walked through the whole fair, which as it turned out expanded to a few side streets as well. 

It was on one of these that something caught each of two sets of eyes. For Aziraphale's, it was a food truck that was actually preparing and selling crepes. For Crowley's, it was a space some tents down filled exclusively with toys for sale. The cheap breaks-in-a-week kind from the looks of it, but toys nonetheless. 

"Why don't we split up for a minute?" Aziraphale suggested, still holding Crowley's hand. "You can look at everything and see what you want while I wait on line over there."

"Mmkay," Crowley responded softly, reluctantly letting go of his caregiver's hand. The angel leaned up and kissed his forehead. 

"If you finish before I get my crepe come find me, okay?" he said. "Otherwise I'll come to you."

"Okay."

The demon watched as Aziraphale went over to the food truck. He smiled at him over his shoulder one more time before he headed over to stand at the end of the line in front of the window. Crowley then convinced himself to walk towards the toys. 

There were boxes all full of play things, many of the cheap variety like he had suspected, but there were also a great deal that seemed to have been donated from children who outgrew them. Crowley didn't particularly care about the quality of anything that caught his attention, so long as it provided adequate fun. 

He felt a few gazes on him as he perused the boxes that made him mildly uncomfortable, but it wasn't too bad. It's not like they were pondering his worth as a slave. They were probably just thinking, "Oh look, it's Mr. Crowley. I wonder what he's up to now?" There's benefits to being viewed as eccentric by the general population of a small English village, mainly that no one would really bat an eye at anything odd he happened to be doing, such as rummaging through children's toys. 

At the moment he had stumbled upon a paddle ball and was playing with it absentmindedly, watching the ball bounce up and down with practiced skill. One of Satan's best games, this was, both extremely frustrating and having the distinct possibility of taking an eye out. 

"Hey, Mr. Crowley!" a young voice called out. 

The demon looked down and saw a gaggle of three children approaching him. He recognized them from events the local schools hosted; most of the younger children in the village had a sort of fascination with him and Aziraphale, and these three were among the ones that had pushed past any initial intimidation to actually interact with them. 

"Ah, hey you lot," Crowley said, suppressing the urge to tell them to just call him Crowley. He'd tried it before, and it seemed that the general consensus among most kids was that you absolutely Do Not address a grownup without a proper honorific (nevermind that he wasn't a proper grownup at the moment, they had no way of knowing that). 

One of the girls looked around and back up at him. "Where's Mr. Fell?" she asked through the mouthful of ice cream. 

"Eh, over there somewhere," Crowley muttered, gesturing in the general direction of the crepe truck he'd left Aziraphale at with one hand while keeping his paddle ball going with the other. He paused though, when he looked down and saw something in the arms of the young boy in the group. "What've you got there then?" 

"A magic kit!" the boy exclaimed, holding up a cardboard box with a picture of a top hat and rabbit on the front. "It was on the counter over there and my mom bought it for us."

"Oh, nice." The demon tried to start his paddle balling again and missed. "Mr. Fell does magic, y'know."

"No way!" the third child gasped. "Really?" 

"Yep." Crowley stopped paying attention to his toy then and looked down at the kids in front of him, who were staring up at him with the kind of curiosity and interest and endeared kids to him so much in the first place. He leaned down towards them. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" he murmured conspiratorially. 

"Yeah!" The three of them gathered close and leaned in, eyes wide with the possibility of what he had to say. Crowley grinned and lowered his voice to a loud whisper. 

"He's  _ terrible  _ at it."

The children let out a few scandalized gasps that made the demon grin even harder. 

"Is he?" the girl asked. "What if you're just trying to make fun of him?" 

"It's true!" Crowley laughed. "He's the worst! Tell you what, why don't you all go over to where he's waiting for a crepe and ask him to demonstrate for you, then you'll see for yourselves."

"Okay." The group quickly agreed amongst themselves and rushed off. "Bye Mr. Crowley!" 

Crowley waved back at them and let out a few stray giggles. Kids really were the best. 

"Oh, Mr. Crowley!" a much older sounding voice called from behind him. "What a surprise to see you here!" 

The demon grimaced. If only the same could be said for their parents. 

Forcing his expression into one of neutrality, he turned around to face the middle aged women approaching him, who he recognized as the mothers of the three he had just sent off to bother his husband. 

"Eh, suppose it would be Nancy," he said quietly, remembering her name at the last second. Forgetting names didn't go over as well with adults as it did with kids. 

Nancy was…friendly, he supposed. She was another face he tended to see at the bake sales and other such events that Aziraphale liked to drag him to. Lots of local moms at those, and they tended to form into groups like the one in front of him to chat and gossip. And from what he could tell, he and his husband seemed to be one of their preferred topics. It's not like the children here were the only ones who found them interesting. 

Nancy always seemed nice enough when she approached him, but he could always feel a different kind of underlying interest there, in her and the other ladies. And he had a sneaking suspicion on what their gossip went to when he was around, hearing them whispering behind his back and giggling, or even doing so right in front of him when they were bold. He suspected it was the kind of fun, "harmless" banter certain married women liked to indulge in about handsome men around the neighborhood, to blush and laugh about. It hadn't particularly bothered him before, or so he had thought, but right now he was getting a bad feeling from being in the presence of this pack of middle-aged wine moms without Aziraphale. 

Nancy came right up to him with a smile as the other two women behind her greeted him as well, similar expressions on their faces. 

"Well, the more friendly faces the better!" She then turned her gaze to where her boy and his friends had run off to. "You know, it really does amaze me, how good you are with children. You'll have to share your tricks with me sometime!" 

"Mm, no tricks," Crowley muttered, thankful he could avoid her direct gaze under his sunglasses. "'Sides, can't be any better at it than you, you actually being a mom' n all."

"Oh Mr. Crowley, you really are a flatterer aren't you?" she said with a giggle, the other two following suit. Crowley managed to force a light chuckle out, increasingly hoping that these women's children would get tired of Aziraphale quickly and come back to lead their mothers off somewhere else. 

"Oh, but being a mom doesn't mean all good things," Nancy kept going (the demon internally thought that his own mommy would personally disagree). "I mean really Mr. Crowley, you look like you're even older than me and you dress with such  _ style _ . I would never have the confidence to wear half the kind of things you do."

"I certainly would never be able to bring myself to wear such tight clothes," one of the other women quipped, and they laughed amongst themselves. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. He had thought he'd dressed pretty loosely today, especially in comparison to his usual wardrobe. Of course he had his skinny jeans on, but he had just worn those to appear more like his typical adult self. 

He didn't think he was being confident with how he dressed, was he? He did like to appear that he was, but these were just the clothes he liked to wear. The way these three were talking about it made the squirmy uncomfortable feeling in his gut grow, and he really hoped the length of time he had to stay in the conversation to appear polite would pass soon. 

"Oh, how's your husband doing?" Nancy asked. "Is he here too?" 

"Uh, yeah, he's getting crepes at the truck over there," Crowley said, turning to where Aziraphale was hopefully no longer on line, though likely being accosted by some little terrors. 

"Well, he's quite the lucky man, isn't he?" she said, and if the demon had been facing her he would have seen her grin turn wolfish as she exchanged a quick glance with her friends.

"Shouldn't leave you unattended, I say." And with that, she quickly reached out and pinched his bum. 

Crowley yelped loudly and whirled back around, unconsciously backing up out of range. The sound high-pitched laughter rang in his ears as he gripped the paddle ball in his hand, hard enough to where he felt the wood starting to crack under the skin of his palm. 

The grating sound stopped with a ping, and Crowley registered Nancy taking out her phone. 

"Oh, we have to go," she said after a glance at the screen. "Gregory's done with work and wants to meet up by the bouncy house."

Nancy started walking in the opposite direction, the other two going with her and already chatting about something or another. She smiled and waved at the demon over her shoulder. 

"Bye Mr. Crowley!" she called out with a wink. "Tell your husband hi for me!" 

Crowley watched them walk off and felt as though he was shrinking, but not in the good way. He felt his rigid muscles shaking just slightly, that sick feeling from before welling up in his gut to a physical degree. He couldn't tell what the hell was wrong with him, it's not like they had meant anything by it. They were just humans, they were being playful, just having a bit of ironic fun from the fact that they knew he was unattainable. It was harmless, really, they weren't serious, it's not like they actually wanted to…to-

Crowley spotted where the group was at a tent in the distance, one of them seeming to have found her husband there. Despite the distance, the demon could still distinctly see the man shoot him a glare. 

Crowley winced and tried to resist the urge to curl in on himself. He felt disgusting, dropped the paddle he'd been holding back into the box it came from so he wouldn't snap it in half. He shivered as he realized he could still feel the place where he'd been pinched, was hyperaware of his whole body, what was visible and where his jeans hugged. He hated it, he didn't  _ want _ to be thinking about his body, but he couldn't seem to turn the awareness off. 

**(Well what did you expect, going out in public?)**

The voice was far too familiar to Crowley, and he suppressed a whimper as the intrusive thoughts flooded his mind. 

**(Did you really think you could just put yourself out in the open like this? Of course not, you're the literal Tempter, you knew this would happen.)**

Crowley was too fucking aware, of his breathing happening too fast, of how he was just standing around unnaturally but couldn't do anything about it, like he could do anything about the voice that's been hiding in his brain for years now. 

**(This always happens to you, doesn't it? And you know why. Did you think you could just blend in? Do you really think she was the only one here who wants to touch you? Everyone wants to, everyone sees you, they can all tell what a slut you are.)**

In that moment it did feel like it to Crowley, felt like there were a million gazes on him, everyone staring at him like the pathetic mess he is, like how it was back up in a brightly lit office. He could hardly breathe, his eyes were burning with tears that wanted to break loose. 

**(You're fucking disgusting. You couldn't stop being a little whore for one damned minute, and you've already affected a few people here, who knows how many more you'll ruin-)**

_ I want mommy. I wanna find mommy. I wanna go home.  _

This voice was a newer one. It had first played in Crowley's head the first time Aziraphale had talked to him while he was little, and it tended to pop up whenever he was regressed. It was softer than the thoughts he was used to, but strong, very strong, and it usually convinced him to listen to it. Now though, he found himself having a hard time. 

**(What, and ruin this day for him too? You really want to be that selfish?)**

_ He said I could go home. Mommy said to tell him if I wanted to go home.  _

**(And you keep taking advantage of him, don't you? You've made him willing to bend over backwards for you, no matter what he wants himself. And he wanted to come here, remember? He's the one who asked. You really think you're so important that you can just ruin his day because someone fucking** **_touched_ ** **you? Oh boohoo, someone put two whole fingers on me, and I'm gonna break down now like I didn't expect it to happen. You're fucking pathetic, weak, you don't deserve him-)**

**_No!!!_ ** _ No no no!!! Mommy said I could leave! He loves me and he wouldn't ever ever lie to me! I wanna go find him,  _ **_I wanna go home!_ **

Crowley felt split apart, couldn't decide what to do, torn between his real desires and the want to just pull himself together, stop being so ridiculous. He still couldn't really breathe, but in spite of the stiffness and shaking, eventually his muscles did start to move. Through his blurry awareness of his surroundings he found himself walking back towards the direction of where he had left Aziraphale, subconsciously lowering the shawl around his arms to hide his curves. 

He spotted the angel as he walked over, surrounded by three laughing children as expected. He was fumbling with a coin as they watched, pleased that Mr. Crowley hadn't led them astray about his husband's terrible magic skills. But as the demon walked up one of them looked down at their phone, and said they had to go. They all said goodbye to Aziraphale as they walked off, and he waved and smiled at them as they went. 

Crowley froze as he reached a certain distance from Aziraphale, still conflicted, fighting with himself over what to say to him. But then the angel spotted him, and his smile brightened as he came over, and Crowley had a hard time thinking clearly. 

"Hello my dear!" Aziraphale said warmly, and the poor excuse of a snake noticed a wrapped up crepe was in one of his hands, filled with cream and fruits and already half eaten. "I'm sorry for the wait, I was just entertaining those lovely children. Did you get any toys?" 

At that moment Aziraphale had gotten so close to him, and Crowley couldn't bear it, couldn't make a conscious decision as he grabbed his angel's hand in a shaking grip, leaned in close before he could see the confusion on his face. 

"I wanna go home," he barely whispered into his ear. 

He was too close to see Aziraphale's face, but he felt the hand in his own squeeze and pull him in a direction, and he followed without question. 

"Come along then, my dear," he heard muttered softly to him as Aziraphale led them through the crowds. Crowley stayed close and kept holding his hand, and already felt regret for what he had done rising up like bile. 

For his part, Aziraphale was worried about his little one, how he was looking firmly down and moving so stiffly. He didn't know what happened to upset his love, but he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap an arm around his waist as he led them between two tents and off the street, tossing the rest of his crepe into a trashcan on the way. 

He didn't, though. That particular gesture had been mistaken for possession once before, and he wasn't going to risk upsetting Crowley further by doing it now. Instead he just kept holding his hand as they walked close to each other, stroking it with his thumb. 

Stupid, stupid, selfish. Crowley berated himself internally as he and Aziraphale walked back to the lot where they had parked. His angel had been having  _ fun _ , he could see how happy he was, and his selfish self had ruined it by telling him he wanted to go home. Why the hell didn't he just keep his mouth shut, Aziraphale had sacrificed so much for him and he couldn't do a single fucking thing for him-

"We're almost there," Aziraphale murmured as they walked through the lot to the Bentley, seeming to have gotten there in record time. But maybe Crowley was just that out of it. The angel squeezed his hand again. "We're almost there my love, don't you worry, we're almost to the car-" 

"I'm sorry," Crowley choked out, feeling the long overdue tears finally starting to well up in his eyes. 

Aziraphale looked up at him with confusion. "Darling, whatever are you sorry for?" 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, trying to suppress the sobs in his throat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." 

"My sweet boy, it's okay, you don't need to apologize." Aziraphale had stopped walking now and was trying to get Crowley to look at him, but the demon was as curled in on himself as he could be while still standing, and visibly shaking. 

"I ruined it!" he whined, pulling his hand free from his partner's so he could wrap his arms around himself. "I ruined it, it wasss a nice day and now you have to stop enjoying it because I can't stop being  _ stupid  _ and I ruined it like I ruin  _ everything _ -" 

"Oh no no, Crowley, honey," Aziraphale went as he pulled the shaking demon into his arms for a hug. "You didn't ruin  _ anything,  _ I don't care at all about going home early, you didn't do anything wrong."

"But I did I did," Crowley sobbed, remaining stiff in the angel's embrace. "Y-you were having a good time and now you're pretending you're okay with that being over j-just because I'm so stupid that, what, someone just touched me a little a-and my body starts being horrible-" 

"What?" 

A cold feeling gripped Aziraphale's spine. He pulled back from Crowley to try to look at his face. "Crowley, who touched you?" 

"I'm sorry!" the demon wailed, hiding his face behind his hands as he started crying fully. 

Aziraphale looked around to see if anyone was nearby as his little one kept sobbing out apologies. Sensing no humans within distance of seeing them, he pulled Crowley back into a hug and lifted him off the ground, then started walking with him towards the car. His boy instinctually wrapped his legs around his waist and clung onto him, crying into his shoulder. 

"Shhh, shhhhh…" Aziraphale soothed, rubbing his demon's back as he walked. He felt a wave of protectiveness surge up in him at the thought of what he had heard earlier, at the thought of some  _ scum  _ laying their hands on his baby, and he hugged him tighter. "Baby boy, tell me what happened, who touched you?" 

"I'm sorry I'm sorry," Crowley continued to sob into his shoulder, seemingly deaf to his caregiver's soft words. "I didn't m-mean, I'm sssorry, I'm sorry you can't bring me places anymore because, just o-one, just  _ one  _ minute without you and I was such a  _ whore- _ " 

Aziraphale felt sick as he finally reached the Bentley, unlocking the doors with a thought. He had heard his baby call himself that word before, and he knew it meant horrible memories and conditioned responses were being dredged up in his head. 

"Honey, please don't say such terrible things about yourself," the angel said, opening the passenger side door of the Bentley and setting Crowley down in the seat there. His boy continued to sob and he leaned down to shush him. "Just breathe now my love, all you have to do is breathe."

"And I'm doing this public!" Crowley wailed, sunglasses now on top of his head as he cried into his hands. "I can't e-even keep it together for, for even a few minutes until we get home- you couldn't have even stayed if you w-wanted to, even if I hadn't said nothin, 'cause I woulda gotten like this in front 'a  _ everyone  _ and everyone would kn-know that your husssband is just a stupid, ugly baby- talk about, fucking humiliating right?"

"Crowley, please don't speak about yourself that way." Crowley wasn't aware of much beyond his own hot face and the feeling of guilt at the moment, but he might have seen Aziraphale reach for something from behind his fists. 

"But I mean it," he sobbed out, "I m-mean it and I'm sssorry."

"Crowley-"

"It's my fault it's my fault and I'm dirty, I'm bad a-and dirty-" 

"Anthony, baby-" 

"I'm  _ sorry,  _ I'm sssorry I'm such a s-stupid ssslut-" 

"That is  _ quite _ enough!" 

Crowley squeaked in surprise as something familiar was shoved into his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale leaning in front of him with tender concern etched into his face, holding a pacifier up to his lips. He squirmed and whined behind the soft plastic, but the angel held it steady in his mouth and shushed him as he continued to whimper and cry. Eventually when he stopped wiggling his caregiver let go, still making soothing noises and stroking his hair. 

"Now, I want you to keep that in dearest, alright?" Aziraphale said. He gave a gentle caress to the side of Crowley's head, a soft kiss on top of the soother. "I can't let anyone bully my baby, not even you."

The pacifier in his mouth was forcing Crowley to breathe more evenly through his nose, to start grounding himself, to pay more attention to the present - including Aziraphale, as he sank to his knees in front of him. He was on the outside ground, and had to look up at Crowley from where he was sitting on the car seat. The demon wasn't used to this, to being higher, for Aziraphale to have lowered himself below him as he looked into his eyes. He found he couldn't look away, the tender, loving gaze meeting his as the angel took his hands in his own. 

"I'd like to make something very clear to you, Crowley," Aziraphale began, letting their bond open through their joined hands, letting his love feel that all of his words were genuine. "I  _ love  _ you. You are the most important person in my life. There is nothing, no one that compares to you in my mind. You're more important to me than anyone or anything else, and certainly more important than some silly little street fair." 

He paused there, to give Crowley's hands a kiss, and to make sure he was still looking at him. He was, his features softer than before, and Aziraphale could feel how hard he was trying to calm down, to actually listen for him. It made the angel feel warm at his core as he watched the rise and fall of his chest start to steady. 

"You never,  _ ever  _ embarrass or humiliate me," he continued, gently but firmly. "And if you ever did have a breakdown in public, it still wouldn't make me feel that way. Because  _ you- _ " he accentuated with a nuzzle to thin hands, "-are the only being in the entire wide universe who matters to me. I love you, I love you more than anything, and I am happy as long as I get to help you be comfortable and happy. And even when you're not, I will never, ever be upset with you. Do you understand, Crowley?"

He had kept his eyes locked with Crowley's for his entire speech, and their bond locked together; so when Crowley still held those starbright eyes on his and nodded, he could tell that he meant it, that he was at least trying to understand. He was letting himself try. Maybe not forever, maybe not entirely, but it was still more than Aziraphale had expected, and he let pride and love surge up in him. 

He gave the hands in his one more firm kiss. "And if  _ anyone,  _ anyone at all looks at you in a way you don't like, or says something to you, or- God forbid,  _ touches  _ you in any way you don't want, it is  _ their _ fault, not yours. It is never your fault. Do you understand?" 

Crowley whined but nodded again. That concept was a bit harder for him to grasp, but he was  _ trying,  _ bless it, trying for Aziraphale, and that was all he needed to do. They'd work on it, like they always did. 

The angel got up off his knees, and pressed a gentle kiss to Crowley's forehead. "Thank you, darling," he murmured. He gave his baby a quick nuzzle before walking around to the driver's side of the Bentley. There was dirt on the knees of his trousers, and he used a quick miracle to clean them off, as Crowley throwing a fit because of dirt in his car was the last thing they needed right now. 

With him and Crowley both in, he turned on the ignition. Before they drove off he turned to the demon and reached a hand out to stroke his face, right by his paci. 

"I'd like you to keep this in until we get home, if you don't mind," he requested. "Just in case you want to be mean to yourself again."

Crowley let out a little noise and nodded, leaning back in his seat. As he felt the car pulling off of the grass he saw Aziraphale hold out something in front of him. It was a small stuffie that Crowley recognized from home. He grabbed it from the big hand of his angel and hugged it against his chest. 

The drive back home was quiet. Crowley felt exhausted, and still upset, and his eyes slid shut as he leaned against the window and sucked on his paci. If he had been looking he would've seen Aziraphale look over at him whenever he approached a stop sign, smiling at him with fond warmth. 

In about five more minutes than it had taken them to drive over they were back at their cottage. Aziraphale carefully pulled the Bentley into the driveway and parked, looking over at Crowley again once they had stopped. He seemed to have noticed the lack of movement and was opening his eyes, sitting up with a little whine. The smile came back to the angel's face, and this time the demon turned his head to him and saw it. 

"We're home now dear," he said softly. "You can take that out now."

Instead of doing that, Crowley climbed up and over to the other car seat, gangly limbs struggling to maneuver in the small space until he settled into Aziraphale's lap. 

"Oh!" His caregiver stayed still until he had managed to sit, and then wrapped his arms around him. "Hello little one."

"Mmmm…" Crowley hugged him back, feeling warm and safe for the first time in about half an hour. Aziraphale shifted him a bit so he could cradle him properly, watching his boy's tired face relax as he rocked him. After a minute the pacifier fell out of his mouth and he snuggled against his mummy's chest. Aziraphale sighed in contentment. 

"...Love?" he murmured. "You don't have to tell me, but earlier you said someone touched you. Do you know who it was?" 

Crowley squirmed a little and buried his face further in Aziraphale's chest. "Y'know that…that boy, in those kids y'were talkin' to earlier?" 

"Yes?" 

"Y'know his mum?" 

"Mrs. Brady?" 

"Mmhm. Nancy."

Aziraphale pictured who Crowley was talking about in his mind and frowned. He was acquainted with Mrs. Brady on the same level that he was with most of the villagers they saw at different events, especially ones involving the children, and he'd never liked how she and some of the other older women would look at Crowley and share whispers. Of course he hadn't thought too much of it at the time, but with the implication of Crowley's words now a knot was forming in his stomach. 

"Did she…?"

His little demon whimpered and curled into an even tighter ball in his lap, all but confirming the unsaid question in his mind. Wordlessly he held him tightened his arms around him to hold him more closely, protectively. The rage that had been stirred up in him was taking a solid shape now that he had a clear target for his anger, for the harm brought upon his love, his  _ baby- _

Aziraphale felt a tug on his bowtie, and looked down to see that Crowley had pulled away from his chest enough to look up at him with big eyes. 

"Don' hurt her," he mumbled.

When the angel didn't respond he sat up enough to wrap his arms around his neck, his face close and imploring. 

"Pretty pwease?" he went, dropping just one 'r' on purpose. 

Aziraphale looked at the beautiful, gracious creature in his arms, batting his eyelashes at him adorably, and sighed. He convinced the worst of his anger to dissipate as he kissed and nuzzled Crowley's cheek. 

"Okay, okay," he mumbled against soft skin. "But I am not going to just leave this unattended."

"Just dun scare her too much."

Aziraphale sighed again and smiled, leaning Crowley down a bit so he could nuzzle his entire face. 

"You are the sweetest, kindest little boy in the whole wide world," he murmured. "You are a gift to the entire galaxy and then some."

The angel lovingly nuzzled the giggling face beneath his a few more times, grateful that Crowley was less opposed to compliments as a little one, even if he didn't always know what to do with all the praise. Aziraphale gave one more smooch to his forehead and sat up, unlocking and opening the car door. 

"Let's go inside honeypie," he said, gathering Crowley up more securely in his arms. "We can talk more over some tea if you want."

Crowley nodded and held onto his neck, watching as Aziraphale first put his little care bag on his arm, and then a plastic one that the demon hadn't noticed before. 

"What's that?" he asked. 

"Oh!" Aziraphale looked down at the bag, then smiled at him. "I actually got something for you before we left, my dear."

The angel pushed the bag down in his lap to reveal a box inside, and Crowley watched with rapt attention and he opened it up. When the top flipped up and he saw what was inside, he let out a little gasp. 

"Toffee apples!" he nearly squealed at the sight of four skewered caramel-covered apples in the box, a couple with different toppings. Aziraphale ruffled his hair. 

"I noticed you kept looking at them," he said, "and I wanted to get you a treat."

Crowley squeezed his neck twice as hard as before and started smattering kisses all over his cheek, prompting giggles despite his airflow being cut off. 

"Mummy mummy thank you, I love you I love you," he felt more than heard cooed against his cheek. He chuckled and pulled one of the apples out of the box.

"Would you like one right now, little snakelet?" he asked, holding it up to Crowley. 

"Yes!" The demon snatched the stick from his hand, holding the apple up to his face and giving it an appreciative sniff before taking a big bite. Aziraphale chuckled at the sight. 

"Alright then dearest, let's head on now," he said, stepping out of the Bentley while carefully keeping his hold on Crowley. He started walking over to the cottage while effortlessly carrying the babe in his arms, who was happily munching on his toffee apple. 

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale with love that was only amplified by the sweet fruit and caramel in his mouth. He snuggled against his broad chest, thinking on how much he loved his mommy for always making him feel safe. Even if something bad happened today he knew his angel would make sure he had plenty of other lovely things on his mind. 

He took another bite of his apple, munching thoughtfully. Going outside  _ was  _ scary, but it hadn't all been bad today. He'd actually felt kind of nice for some time. 

Well, he supposed he could try it again some other day he thought, pressing a sticky kiss to Aziraphale's chin. He would just have to stick with his angel and everything would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, and for being patient if you've been waiting! Like I said, I can promise at least a very short chapter next week, but there will probably be weeks I'll have to take off again. If I do I will let you all know though, maybe with some more art.
> 
> Love you all, hope you're staying safe~!


	14. Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, shorter one this time! Enjoy a little bit of silliness.

It was another day for Crowley in a not-tap-dancing-towards-doom world, and there were currently three angels standing in the foyer of the cottage. 

It wasn't alarming. Angels and demons came by to talk to him and Aziraphale often enough, asking about free will and whatnot. It generally wasn't that much of a hassle, and Crowley appreciated the slow willingness to change he was starting to see in all his Fallen and not-Fallen comrades. But sometimes he just wasn't up for this sort of thing - like right now, when he would really rather get back to cuddling with his stuffies. 

"No, not today. Sorry."

The face of the angel in the middle scrunched slightly in confusion. The two behind them shared a nervous glance. 

"But demon Crowley, we've come all this way," the first angel said. "We have questions that we were told can only be answered through your knowledge."

Discreetly from where he was sprawled out on the couch, Crowley glanced up at the angels through his sunglasses. He didn't recognize them from his time in Heaven, which made him feel a bit less anxious. The fact that they appeared a bit nervous themselves helped too. But he just felt so small today, and Aziraphale wasn't here right now, and he'd been positively _bored_ because of that until these three had shown up. He just wasn't up for this sort of thing today, all he wanted to do was play a game with his caregiver when he got home. 

"I'm sorry fellas, really I am, but it's just not a good day for me today. Maybe you can swing by tomorrow?" 

"B-but!" the middle angel stammered, reminding the demon of Aziraphale for a pleasant second, "This is our only day off for the week! We don't know if we'll even manage to get one next week, and our worries are very pressing-" 

Crowley had an epiphany in that second. He was really terribly bored, and even though his angel wasn't here, who's to say that the three angels that _were_ here wouldn't be able to help him relieve that boredom in the same way? 

He shot up, reached under the couch to grab a box, hopped off and slammed it down in front of his guests. The startled angels yelped and flinched back, and Crowley looked up at them with a sharp grin. 

"Play with me!" 

\---

Aziraphale came home with bags full of groceries on one arm, and a set of adorable stickers that he hadn't been able to resist getting for Crowley. As he came to the front door he was surprised to hear multiple voices inside, ones he didn't recognize on top of what sounded like his husband. He didn't sense any distress from Crowley so he tried to keep himself from worrying too much as he opened the door. 

There on the floor of the living room were his partner and three people he recognized as lower-ranking angels, sitting around a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. The angels were smacking their handles while watching the balls in the middle with surprising concentration. Crowley was the only one who looked moderately relaxed, especially when he looked up at Aziraphale and beamed at him. 

"Angel, you're back!" he cried out happily. The angels startled at the sudden arrival of another. One of them hastily stood up and turned to face him, bowing slightly. 

"Principality," they said while the two behind them looked on nervously, "We thank you for welcoming us into your home. And the, Serpent of Eden's of course-" 

Crowley waved from where he was still having his hippo gobble up the little balls. "That's me."

"We are here to request knowledge, to answer questions that we have. Have had for a while, in fact, but it is now that we may seek to answer them."

Aziraphale looked at the fellow angel in front of him, then at the scene behind them, where Crowley seemed to have just won the latest game for cause of his opponents being distracted. The corner of his mouth quirked up just a bit. 

"Well, that certainly sounds like pressing business," he said. "It's good that you had time for some fun as well."

He watched as the angel's face reddened slightly, likely without their knowledge. "We _did_ come here with questions to ask you and the Serpent, but then we were…"

"Distracted?" Aziraphale supplied. 

"Er-" 

"Vangiel is really good at this," Crowley piped up from where he was emptying the game's balls out on the floor. "They've won three games in a row. But Olichai's good too, she almost beat me a lot."

The angel on Crowley's right, who Aziraphale assumed was Olichai, blushed and lowered her head. 

The third one that had not been introduced looked at a watch on their wrist then, and their eyes widened. 

"Vangiel, we need to go," they said urgently. "Our time here is almost up."

"What?" Vangiel cried, whirling around to their comrade. "But we were given two hours on Earth! We were told that was a long enough time!" 

Crowley shrugged while he cleaned up the game on the floor. "Time flies when you're havin' fun," he said. "That's an expression here." He looked up at Aziraphale then. "We played a lot of other games too," he explained, as if he was able to tell that Aziraphale had been baffledly wondering how the hell they could've been playing Hungry Hungry Hippos for two hours straight. 

As the angels scrambled up and over to the door, Crowley stood up with the Hasbro game secure in its box. He walked over and held it out to his guests. 

"Here, you can have this," he said.

Vangiel glanced down at the box, then at Crowley, a puzzled expression on their face. "Why?" 

"You had fun, right?" 

They shared an unsure look with the two angels beside them. "Ehm, well, yes."

"So you can take this back home and have fun with your other friends," the demon said. "Fun is best with lots of people to share it with." He held the box out even more insistently. 

Aziraphale smiled at the display. Crowley was doing well putting up his usual demeanor, but behind his love's cool facade and shades, he could see the earnest little boy who cared so much about others. Who wanted to share the happiness and love he's found. 

After a beat, Vangiel gingerly took the box from Crowley. They and the other two looked it over, and the corners of their mouth turned up just a bit. 

"Thank you, demon Crowley," they said, and Aziraphale thought he saw their companions smile at each other for just a second. 

"No problem," Crowley replied. "Sorry you didn't get to ask me anything. Come by the next time you get a day off and you can, yeah?" 

"Yes, we will!" Vangiel said eagerly. The front door opened behind the group, and they walked out, waving as they went. "Goodbye!" 

The door shut behind them, and Aziraphale looked out the window to see them walking across the lawn. Then in a flash of light, they were gone. Likely back up to Heaven. 

The only angel left in the cottage let out a sigh, and finally turned back to his little demon with a smile. He smiled back, swaying in place with a slightly sheepish posture. That fell away though when Aziraphale opened his arms, and Crowley rushed into them without a second thought. 

"Well then, my dear," Aziraphale started, lifting his boy up into his arms and lifting his glasses off, "did you make some new friends today?" 

Crowley pouted up at him and nuzzled against his neck. "You were gone for so _looooong_!" he whined, voice back in its more babyish octave. "And I was so boooored, I wished you were here to play with me. But you weren't, so I let them play with me instead."

"Oh little one, I'm sorry," Aziraphale apologized with a kiss to his forehead. "I just got held up a bit. Was a sale there and er- involved a horse and a clown, long story."

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him, and he leaned down to smooch it. "But I'm home now, so I can play with you now if you like."

"No way," the demon huffed, crossing his arms. "You're too late, I'm all played out now. Get on the schedule, mister."

"Oh, come now," Aziraphale went with a gentle grin. "Would you be interested in anything more if it involved-" he lifted one of his grocery bags up, "-stickers?" 

Crowley glanced up at him, a familiar little twinkle starting to spark in his eyes. 

"I'm listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might try to draw again today, but I need to have lunch first. Thanks for reading and all that, cheers!


	15. Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, I'm trying to set up a fish tank and it's not going so well. Have another shorter story.

Crowley loved being little. 

It wasn't something he would readily admit. Even after everything he was far too proud for this level of softness, not above feeling ashamed for it. God, the very _thought_ of such a sentiment escaping the very deepest parts of his subconscious, being acknowledged at all even in his most private, fleeting thoughts was mortifying. 

But should anyone have delved into those secret depths of his mind, they would find that he loved it more than he hated it in any capacity, or himself for needing it. 

It was just…it was still so hard, most of the time. Getting easier, yes, but that didn't necessarily mean much when he was starting down at mental health's equivalent of the ninth circle of Hell (technically there were only seven circles, but Crowley figured that after all the torture and rape and general abuse, two extra circles down was justified).

And as embarrassing and pathetic as he still found it at times, the regression was the _one_ thing that would always manage to shut down the worst of his brain functions and give him some damn _rest_. The amount varied per day of course, and he would be lying if he said he didn't spend a great deal of his little time just as miserable as could get while big, the only real difference being a sudden lack of resistance against bawling his eyes out over the smallest things. 

…And of course there was also the difference in Aziraphale during those times, ready to bundle him up in a blanket and rock him and coo baby talk to him at a moment's notice. To keep doing it until he was ready to come back up. 

Crowley glanced over at the angel from where he was currently sitting on the floor in front of their sofa, watching a cartoon with some of his stuffies. Aziraphale sat at the desk he used for book repairs, adorable little spectacles perched on his nose as he carefully spread glue into the spine of an old tome. The demon watched him instead of his show and couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face. 

He was still quite surprised, at how well Aziraphale had taken to all of this. He might've expected him to accept this new part of him in that reluctant always-supportive way of his, deal with it well enough, and either try to help out of obligation or leave him to it when the need arose. To try not to think too much about the fact that this was just another reminder of how fucked up he was, how he would never be the same person he'd fallen in love with in the first place. 

But, none of that happened. Aziraphale had embraced this mess of his, without force, without reluctance. And through all the times the angel had held him and fed him and kept his soft things nearby for whenever he fell into littlespace, Crowley had searched in their connection for some misguided sense of duty leading him to this level of care, and never found any. All he ever felt was contentment, happiness. Aziraphale was _happy_ to help him with this, to be his caregiver, to entertain him when his brain decided it was time to be a baby so everything would hurt just a little less. And in all this time, he never sensed any pity, or shame, or regret in his partner either. Just love. The very same amount of love he always felt from Aziraphale; maybe a bit softer, a bit more platonic, but it was that same love. In the angel he only felt genuine enthusiasm when he was acting as his caregiver, maybe a bit of sadness when the demon was having a particularly bad day, and always love. 

No matter how much he looked for contradicting evidence, it remained an undeniable fact that Aziraphale _wanted_ to take care of him. He wanted to, was truly happy to, and Crowley had been wrong all those times before when he had been sure there was no way he could love the angel anymore than he already did. 

He gazed warmly at Aziraphale as he worked, giggling softly at the sight of his tongue peeking out in concentration. He really did love him so much. His partner, his love. His Mommy. 

The cartoon on the TV didn't really seem all that interesting anymore. Crowley paused it and set the remote down with one of his stuffies, in case they wanted to watch something else. He then watched his angel for another minute before deciding he couldn't wait any longer to love him, leaving his blankie behind as he started crawling over to him. 

Aziraphale didn't notice as Crowley approached the desk, engrossed as he was in his current restoration project, but he felt a familiar shift in the energy around him as the little demon sat at his heels. He looked down and saw his little love sitting beside his chair, looking up at him with big eyes and a bigger smile. He beamed at the sight of his partner, and reached down to ruffle his hair. 

"Hello honey pie," he said. "Do you want to help me work?" 

Crowley kept smiling as he nodded, and rested his head against Aziraphale's thigh. They angel chuckled and ran his hand through his red curls a few times. 

"Good boy," he cooed. "Just having you here makes me feel much more productive, I'd say."

Crowley wiggled in delight at the prospect of being useful to mommy, and snuggled further against his caregiver's thigh and chair as he returned to his work. 

After a few minutes though, something felt wrong. Crowley leaned away from Aziraphale's thigh and looked up at him from where he sat on the floor. His angel, working at a desk…Crowley "helping" while sitting on the floor below him, like, like-

The little demon hunched and curled in on himself, mood suddenly pummeled with scary thoughts. It's not like any of this was similar to it, Aziraphale or his desk or anything about where they were. Certainly not the dynamic between them, even if there was technically an exchange of power, but now that the association had been made in his mind he couldn't stop thinking about it. He couldn't even bring himself to crawl back to the TV, just rocking himself back and forth and trying to suppress the little whines rising up in his throat (and failing). 

Suddenly a hand was in his hair, and he flinched back instinctively. But the hand didn't pull or hurt, it just stroked. It went away after a second, and suddenly there were two hands, not scary but familiar, grabbing him by the waist, not forcefully but gently. Crowley let out a little noise as he was hoisted into the air, and promptly settled onto a warm lap. 

"Shhh, it's alright my dear," the demon heard soft in his ear. He glanced up at Aziraphale, who was looking at him with the exact gentle warmth that soothed all of his frayed nerves. One of those hands held his head and pulled him closer. 

"My little boy doesn't belong on the floor," he crooned softly, pressing a kiss to Crowley's forehead. "He belongs right here on mummy's lap." 

Aziraphale made sure his boy was settled properly before leaning over him to continue working. Crowley leaned against him and tried not to cry. His angel had known, somehow. He always knew. And most importantly, he always knew how to make it better. 

He tilted his head to look at what Aziraphale was doing. Right now he seemed to be polishing the outside of the book he was working on. It was very pretty looking, and Crowley let his thumb slip into his mouth as he watched. 

But, there was a stack of papers on the edge of the desk too. And Crowley saw them, and even though they were off to the side, their presence on a desk brought back too much to him again. He couldn't help the whimper that escaped his throat, the way he buried his face back into Aziraphale's shoulder and started to shake. 

He heard something clack against the desk, and then a pair of strong arms were wrapping around his lean frame tightly. He felt Aziraphale push his chair back and stand up, holding him as he started walking back over to the sitting room. 

"Hush my dear, hush now," a soothing voice whispered to him. "It's just me here, I promise it's only me."

Crowley watched the desk retreated and tugged on Aziraphale's jacket, unintelligible little noises leaving his mouth. The angel just held him closer. 

"Don't you worry my darling, I don't have to finish that until tomorrow." Another kiss on his head. "You're far more important anyways."

Crowley didn't _feel_ Aziraphale open into his mind, but he didn't know how else he could've interpreted his baby babbles. 

Aziraphale sat down in his armchair, cradling Crowley more securely in his arms. The demon held onto him, fists in shirt, not caring as much as he normally would about wrinkling the fabric. He felt Aziraphale lean forward for a second, then back again, and suddenly his blankie was being wrapped over him. He felt all the more secure with it covering him as his caregiver settled back in the chair and held him close. 

"Do you want to keep watching your show?" Aziraphale asked gently. Crowley thought on the loud noises from the TV and didn't want to deal with those at the moment. He shook his head. 

"Would you like me to read you a story, then?" 

Crowley shook his head again. 

"Do you just want to snuggle for a bit?" 

Crowley nodded this time, and buried his face in Aziraphale's chest even more. One of those kind hands patted his head, and pulled the blanket further up over him. 

He breathed in against the angel's shirt, and enveloped his senses in the smell of him, old pages and petrichor and that familiar musk, and the only scent of divinity that had ever made him feel safe instead of scared. 

This is what made all the difference, he supposed. Of course he could still get bloody miserable like this, have flashbacks, all that nonsense. And they weren't really much easier just because of the headspace. 

But…he nuzzled against Aziraphale's soft chest, and thought that maybe, it was just a bit less complicated like this. Things were fuzzier, almost. A brutal panic attack when he was his proper self would be just as brutal like this, but it was less sharp, defined. A feeling of badness that he didn't have to think too harshly about, didn't get to blame himself for before he felt something warm around his shoulders and something fuzzy in his arms. And like this, he got to think simply enough that maybe all he really needed was some stuffies or milky or mommy (always mommy) to make it all better. Maybe that was enough. 

Crowley felt the chair rocking back and forth under him, heard Aziraphale hum a soft tune, felt it reverberate through his chest as he let himself relax. 

And you know what? Sometimes it really was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might take off next week, and if so I'll let you guys know! Thanks for reading!


	16. (more art)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, I knew I wasn't going to finish the next chapter by next week, but I was planning on having some more art up instead, and I'm sorry I didn't have anything up. I did mean to, but then that day ended up being pretty shit so I couldn't do it. So to make up for it, I'm giving y'all twice the content this week!
> 
> Sketches first, writing will come later. I wanted to see what Crowley would like in some little outfits, I figure he'd have a lot of stuff with a space theme. And then did a couple of extra doodles just because (because I need to learn how to draw Aziraphale's hair).
> 
> edit: removed top drawings because I don't like my art anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next story should be up later today, if not then tomorrow, so stay tuned!
> 
> Update: actually it'll probably definitely be tomorrow, I'm super tired today for some reason and I don't wanna post it too late


	17. Naughty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I lied again. I just don't know how fast I'll be able to write. It takes longer than you'd think. Hope you at least enjoy this now that it's here.

Aziraphale _adored_ little Crowley. 

Granted, he adored Crowley all the time. The most handsome, charming, _kind_ (don't tell him) demon- no, living being in all of creation. His partner, his spouse, his beloved for however long of eternity they would last. Hardly a minute went by when he didn't have him on his mind in some way. Were someone to pass by Aziraphale on the street at any time of the day and ask him what he was thinking about, there is about a 15% chance it would be a book he was currently reading, a 4% chance it would be some kind of entrée he was craving, and a healthy 81% chance of Crowley. 

So safe to say, Aziraphale most assuredly adored all facets of his husband. But there was just a special kind of adoration he felt for him when he regressed, that never failed to make Aziraphale smile until his cheeks hurt, to make him feel so very light and warm at his very core. 

And it made perfect sense to him, because little Crowley was all the best parts of his partner presented in a different and _adorable_ way. He was just so sweet, and cute, and just a little bit bubbly in a way Crowley hardly ever allowed himself to be normally. A darling little thing that made Aziraphale reconsider his usual disdain at the idea of spending time around younger children. 

And he never gave the angel any trouble. He was always so polite and kind and so very _good_ , listening to his caregiver with hardly any fuss, soft and sweet whenever he's told to do something. 

And that, as it is, is exactly what Aziraphale was worried about. 

He looked down at Crowley from where he was sitting comfortably in his favorite armchair in their cottage. His baby demon was sitting on the floor, pacifier in his mouth, leaning against Aziraphale's legs as he played with a few miniature dolls. He looked quite comfortable as it were, and for the past hour or so he had just been playing quietly by himself.

Aziraphale thought he may have been thinking about it too much. But it was hard not to, with how much he knew - of Crowley now, and of Crowley before now. 6,000 years was a long time after all, and before that terrible month he would wager he had a pretty solid grasp on who Crowley was, the kind of person he really existed as in that gorgeous corporation of his. And if you had asked Aziraphale years prior what he thought the demon would be like as a child, he knew exactly the kind of answer he would have given; _naughty_. A mischievous, tiny terror of a little gremlin, who would relish in pulling pranks and breaking rules on purpose and asking a million and one questions over and over again. 

And now that child was here, and he wasn't any of those things. He was a soft, sweet baby, who was considerate of every living thing and cried at everything and seemed to always be waiting for nap time. A little thing who never protested anything past a pout, never made a fuss if he could help it, who always felt incredibly guilty when he thought he was making things hard for Aziraphale ( _even though it's not your fault, it's the fault of all the bastards that have ever hurt you, and if am to be upset with anyone it will be them_ ). 

And, Aziraphale knew. Of course he knew, still not everything but more details now than ever. So how could he observe all of that and not worry? How could he compare the child he'd thought of before the Incident, and this child that exists afterwards, and not understand the discrepancy between them? When he saw how pliant his little Crowley was to his words, saw how terrified he became at the prospect of doing something for him wrong, when a "yes Mommy" sound so similar to the "yes Master" he'd heard too many times in Crowley's nightmares (and his sword was in hand in those nightmares, and slaying the projection of the Archangel in there as violently and brutally as possible was the only way he could release the deep rage always within him. It wasn't perfect, but he was still so _angry_ , all the time, and likely a great source of that was over how he had let the disgusting creature that _dared_ call himself an angel have such an easy out. His baby had wanted it, but the monster still didn't deserve it, deserve any scrap of Crowley's kindness and goodness, or anyone's for that matter. He hoped that wherever Gabriel was, whatever afterlife he had ended up in, he could feel it whenever Aziraphale stabbed his nightmare self - every broken wing, every evisceration, everything that he should have done while the bastard was still alive instead of trying make up for it on the bits of him left in Crowley's head. 

He hopes there's a personal Hell for Gabriel in the afterlife. And if he ever finds out there isn't, he'll go and make one himself.) 

And maybe he'd be right in thinking that there was no immediate concern - this was how they'd done this for a few years by this point, how Crowley always was, and no matter his demeanor it had always clearly helped him. 

But, they were at a point in his recovery by now that Aziraphale felt that he could start to look at the bigger picture. And maybe that included examining Crowley's behaviors when he was being small, and realizing which were caused by his lingering trauma, that Aziraphale could now help him shed to let out some of the parts of him that had been forced down, beaten and bloodied. To release some of the less visible shackles that still had a hold on him. 

The angel glanced down at the head full of bouncy red curls below him, and reached out to ruffle them fondly. He received an appreciative hum in response, and he smiled brightly. In spite of his serious musings, his dear boy never failed to make him smile like this. He reminded himself that said boy was who he was thinking about these uncomfortable things for, about the next steps of his recovery, so he could continue to grow back into himself and become more comfortable as he continued to heal. 

Speaking of the little demon, Crowley was just resting against his caregiver's leg now, seeming to be done with playing. Aziraphale looked around at all the little dolls scattered haphazardly around the floor, having adventures around the imaginary "town" of their sitting room. He internally winced at the thought of accidentally stepping on one of them. 

"Darling," he spoke with another stroke against Crowley's hair, making his little one look up at him. "If you're done playing with them, would you pick up your dolls please?" 

"Yes mommy," Crowley replied, crawling off to start gathering up his dollies. Aziraphale felt himself cringe at the affirmation, thoughts from earlier returning. However, he noticed that Crowley had let his paci fall out of his mouth at some point, so for the moment he distracted himself with picking it up off the floor and reminding himself to clean it later. 

He startled at the sudden sound of ringing, which was from the timer he had set in the kitchen earlier. It was just for steeping some tea, but the method he was using required more time, and he hadn't wanted to just watch it in the kitchen and leave his boy alone. 

"I'll get it!" Crowley piped up, crawling back over to Aziraphale and dropping all the dolls he gathered up at his feet. Before the angel could react he pushed himself up and ran to the kitchen. 

Aziraphale watched him disappear behind the wall, that sinking feeling clutching at his heart yet again. His little one really was so obedient, so eager to please. Of course, Crowley loved him, and always wanted to please him, just as the angel wanted to do for him. He knew it wasn't the same as it had been when he was with that monster. But, it still felt like something wasn't right here. In fact, it felt like something was certainly wrong. 

"I got your tea!" Crowley padded back into the room with just one cup of the tea that had been in the pot, for Aziraphale. He came over to his angel with a smile, but his face fell upon seeing the hint of tension in his expression. 

"Mummy? Are you okay?" he asked. 

"Oh darling, thank you." Aziraphale took the tea from Crowley and set it on the little table to the side. "It's nothing really, my love, I was just thinking."

"That's dangerous." The angel found himself smiling at the sight of Crowley's little smirk. At the very least, his boy allowed himself a bit of his usual snark every now and then. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see that the demon's face had softened again. "Wanna talk about it?" 

Aziraphale sighed at the sweet gesture from his sweet boy, and figured that he ought to address this concern of his sooner rather than later. 

"Come here, darling," he murmured, reaching up to gently grab Crowley by the waist and guide him down into his lap. The little thing curled up against him as soon as he was seated, and looked up at him expectantly. 

"Well- my dear, it's just…" Aziraphale started gently stroking Crowley's hair as he thought on what exactly to say. "We've done this for quite a long time, and oh, you've always been such a good boy for me."

Crowley let out a happy little noise at the praise, but still looked patiently up at his caregiver with an unsaid "but?" 

"I was just wondering," Aziraphale continued hesitantly, "if you've ever thought about, well… being naughty?"

Crowley tilted his head, brows scrunching in confusion. "Naughty?" 

"I mean-" Aziraphale gestured with the hand that wasn't holding the demon. "-you know, causing some mischief, breaking rules, things like that."

Crowley turned his head off to the side then, expression pensive and just a little anxious as he started chewing on his nails. Aziraphale leaned in to give his forehead a little kiss. 

He knew his words didn't make perfect sense, considering they didn't have any rules for little Crowley. The angel thought that they just took the fun out of what was supposed to be a relaxing experience, and besides, Crowley was too sweet to need them anyway. So that particular form of structure had been disregarded. 

(Not to say that he hadn't tried to be a responsible parent at first. The first time Crowley had gotten bored while regressed and scared some people for fun, Aziraphale had tried putting him in the corner for a timeout. It took only two minutes of soft crying and "I'm sorry, mommy"s for him to cave and scoop the babe up in his arms, deciding that there would be no more punishments from now on.) 

Even so, Crowley could at least understand what Aziraphale meant. He turned his gaze back to him nervously. 

"Do you wan' me ta be naughty?" he asked. 

"I didn't-" Aziraphale sighed again, trying to think of how to get his point. "Rather darling, I thought _you_ may want to be naughty."

Crowley looked up at him curiously, and he pulled him just a bit closer. 

"I just know that you love causing trouble," he said, "making mischief, spreading discontent. How much _fun_ you have doing it, not to mention how skilled you are at it." He paused to give Crowley's hair a little ruffle. "That's what you told me was how you came up to Earth in the first place, wasn't it? How we came to meet? _"Get up there and make some trouble"_ and all that?" 

The little demon in his lap looked away from him again, suckling on his fingers now instead of biting them. Aziraphale kissed the side of his head. 

"I just want you to know that it's perfectly alright if you still want to do that sort of thing," he whispered gently, "even if you're being my little one."

"What sort of thing?" 

"Er, well - like, drawing on the walls! Making a mess on purpose, hiding my glasses, typical sorts of mischief I suppose."

Crowley peeked back at him through the hair hanging by his face, still looking unsure. Aziraphale kissed him once more. 

"It's nothing you have to worry about, little darling," he said. "I just wanted to let you know that you can do things like that if you want, and you won't be in any trouble if you do, okay?" 

"Mmkay," Crowley mumbled through his fingers. Aziraphale held him just a bit closer and nuzzled the side of his head. 

"Do you want to stay snuggling for a bit?" 

"Mm-hm."

The angel settled back into the armchair, holding his baby just firmly enough in his arms. He wasn't sure if Crowley had actually really listened to what he'd been trying to say, but at least it was a start. They could work on it a little at a time if needed. 

For now, he picked up his tea and brought the sweet liquid to his lips, reminding himself to pick up the dolls at his feet later. 

\---

Crowley had in fact listened and considered his words. Aziraphale first realized this when he came home one day from a run to the little bakery in the village, after getting sidetracked for a long while by local gossip. Bag of pastries on his arm, he felt the familiar aura of his husband in the sitting room, and walked in to see what he was up to. 

"Darling, I'm home- oh!" 

The angel stood frozen in awe, at the sight of the wall Crowley was sitting in front of. Normally a plain white like the others in this room, the lower half had been transformed into what could only be called a masterpiece (maybe not to everyone, but to him anything his demon made was the highest quality of art there was). A vaguely abstract landscape of color had been created, green meadows and red roofs melding into the rich purple blues and bright yellows of a starry nighttime sky, reminding Aziraphale of a certain famous painter that his demon had known very dearly. 

As he stepped closer, he could tell that a multitude of mediums had been used to create this whimsical, childlike landscape. He could see swirls of paint mixed in with scribbles of crayon, and markers, and even some glitter here and there. But rather than creating the expected chaotic and messy effect, the different materials had been put together and blended in a way that was just shy of organized, and contributed to the overall children's storybook feeling of the whole thing. 

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley, sitting among a myriad of art supplies, quite a bit of which had gotten everywhere on his front. Crowley, his beautiful, talented baby, who was looking up at him with gorgeous eyes full of anxiety and just a hint of fear. 

Aziraphale stared, confused. What was wrong with his boy? He was creating something beautiful, he should be proud, happy! 

Then it hit him. He had created this beautiful something on the _wall_. And what's one thing children are always taught, if not that you're not supposed to draw on the walls. 

Except for one child, who had in fact been indirectly encouraged to do so earlier in the week. 

_'Er, well - like, drawing on the walls!'_

Aziraphale saw Crowley and realized why he looked so tense (almost _scared_ ). He had done something "against the rules." Something _naughty_. And even though the angel had explicitly told him that he wouldn't be in trouble for such behavior, he was still waiting for a negative reaction. 

Aziraphale took a good look at the art on the wall again. He looked and smiled. And then he looked down at Crowley, eyes bright and still smiling, and reached down to ruffle his hair. 

"Very good naughtiness," he praised. "Keep it up."

And then he walked off to put his pastries away and maybe dig into one or two, and Crowley watched him go, feeling a warmth building in his tummy. 

\---

The next day, Aziraphale came in after another little outing by himself, earlier this time. He walked past the wall in the living room that was a clean white once again (being a being capable of proper magic, he had managed to transfer Crowley's artwork onto a piece of large canvas paper), and went into the kitchen. He hadn't brought any food home this time, but he was feeling a bit peckish, and fancied some tea and biscuits as a pick-me-up. 

He hummed to himself as he put the kettle on to boil, and got out a teabag of rich earl grey. Then he grabbed a small plate and popped open the tray of chocolate biscuits on the counter, putting a reasonably indulgent amount on the dish. He and Crowley had made them only a few days prior, and he belatedly wondered where his little demon could be, and if he'd like to share his snack. 

And then, as he was tucking the cover back on the tin, he heard it. A tiny, almost imperceptible sound, that most would hardly be able to distinguish from some random creak of wood in a fairly old cottage. But Aziraphale was not most, and he picked up the noise enough to recognize what it was: a muffled, barely there giggle. 

More alert to his partner's suspiciously obvious absence now, he expanded his senses to try and detect Crowley's familiar presence. And with some effort, he felt it - a faint demonic essence, obviously being as concealed as it could, coming from one of the upper cabinets. 

Aziraphale smiled to himself, catching onto the game he suspected was being played against him. Nonchalantly as he could, he whistled a tune as he turned the stove off and moved the kettle to a less heated coil. He took his time getting the sugar and milk for his eventual tea out, before finally facing the cabinet that had a single red hair dangling from the space under the door. 

"Now to get a mug," he murmured to himself, just a bit louder than he normally would. Trying to push his grin back down, he carefully grasped the handle of the cabinet door and pulled it open. 

"Boo!" 

The exact sight Aziraphale had expected was in front of him - Crowley curled up to fit in the cabinet, in a way only someone who had a questionable relationship with human anatomy could pull off, leaning forward just slightly with clawed hands out and a wide, giddy grin on his face. 

Despite having seen it coming a mile away, Aziraphale dramatically clutched his chest and gasped, pretending to feel faint for a second. 

"Oh, how terrifying!" he cried out, holding a hand over his eyes for good measure. He heard more precious little giggles, and peeked out from underneath his hand. 

Despite his efforts to ham it up for Crowley, the little monster still had a look of apprehension underneath the small smile on his face. Aziraphale smiled back at the golden eyes watching him, and he gingerly reached out to take hold of one of Crowley's hands, pulling it to his lips and kissing the back of it. 

"Excellent work, my dear," he said, giving the demon's hand a pat before releasing it. "Would you hand me my mug right there?" 

He watched Crowley's smile relax, turn more soft and genuine at the same kind of casual praise that he had received yesterday. He reached behind his hip and grabbed an angel-wing mug to hand over to Aziraphale. 

"Thank you, dear boy." The angel was still smiling as he set the mug down and poured the water from the kettle into it. "Why don't you come down and join me for a snack?" 

"No!" With that, Crowley grabbed the cabinet door and pulled it shut again. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you going to pop out of another cabinet later and scare me again?" he asked. 

There was a pause, before a muffled, "Yes!" 

"Would you at least like some biscuits while you're in there?" 

"...Yes please."

The door opened just a crack, and Aziraphale lifted the tin up to it. He chuckled a little to himself at the sight of black claws poking out to snatch up a handful of biscuits before disappearing back into the darkness. 

Aziraphale shook his head fondly as the cabinet closed again. He popped a teabag into his mug, secretly pleased at how Crowley had neglected to say "thank you" for the biscuits. 

\---

Aziraphale was noticing a trend in Crowley's bouts of mischief, in that he only seemed to be willing to prepare when his caregiver left the house. 

As he was carrying armfuls of groceries into the kitchen, he stopped at the sight of a plate on the dining table. It had a single piece of what looked like some kind of dessert on it. 

Setting the groceries down in the kitchen, Aziraphale went over to the table to examine what was on it. The plate had a small square of something covered in chocolate frosting and sprinkles on it, and underneath the angel thought he could see what looked like some kind of yellow cake. 

And next to it, was a note. Aziraphale leaned over to read the bold print in familiar red marker. 

_For mommy <3 _

He should have known that something was afoot then, but it's not as if it was the first time Crowley had done something sweetly impromptu for him. Besides, his mind became a bit preoccupied at the sight of what appeared to be a delicious bit of cake. 

Disregarding any concerns about a mess, Aziraphale picked up the small bit of cake with just his hands, his fingers sinking into the frosting as he brought it up to his face. Examining it closer, it was clear that his little boy had frosted this himself, which meant he probably baked it too. The angel licked his lips at the thought that such a small bit like this must mean that there was more cake around somewhere, before giving into the sugary smell and biting into his treat. 

As he bit down he could immediately tell that something was wrong. The frosting was as rich and smooth as it looked, but the cake below it had a very odd texture, not like a cake at all. He ran his tongue over it, and it didn't even _taste_ like cake. 

Spitting out the bite he had taken onto the plate, Aziraphale examined the treat in his hand more closely. Now that a chunk had been taken out of it he could clearly see the "cake" under the frosting, which was the right color but far more porous than any kind of cake he had ever seen. He ran a finger over it, and it felt oddly scratchy, almost like-

Aziraphale's widened at the realization. Oh. It's a _sponge_. 

The sudden sound of giggles made him turn around. He spotted a wave of deep auburn and a single snake's eye peeking out from behind a corner, sounds of mirth trying to escape from behind a pale hand. 

Aziraphale's expression softened into a smile at the sight. Oh, of course. 

"Quite a new take on sponge cake I must say, my dear," he said, watching Crowley duck behind the corner a little more at being addressed. He carefully walked over to him, not wanting to scare him when he could still sense a hint of nerves on him. 

"You really are quite adept at these "pranks," darling." He made sure to keep the easy, amused smile on his face as Crowley continued to peek out at him. "Imagine the scale you could achieve if you had more targets than me."

The little demon stepped out from behind the corner just a bit. He wouldn't quite meet Aziraphale's eyes, looking down bashfully and swaying a little in place, still hiding quite a bit behind his blankie. 

"It okay?" 

Aziraphale's insides melted at the soft, unsure little voice behind the starry fabric. 

"Of course."

Crowley picked up his head a little as his angel lifted the fake cake back up to his lips and gave it an indulgent lick. 

"Oh, and this frosting is _delicious_ ," he moaned, licking his lips and wiggling happily.

"I's buttercream."

"I don't suppose you have any more?" 

Crowley smiled and walked over to the refrigerator, opening it to pull out a big bowl of chocolate buttercream icing. 

\---

Things went wrong the next time. Aziraphale really should have expected it, but he was too caught up in the joy of seeing Crowley getting more and more comfortable acting out when he was regressed. He felt a bit lighter at every moment of mischief, even if they were more calculated instead of natural, like what it should be for children. 

He was feeling quite pleased at this time, as Crowley was electing to hide when he was supposed to be taking a bath. Even though he _loved_ bathtime, he was trying to get out of it this time just for naughtiness's sake, and the thought made Aziraphale feel delighted. 

He was currently play-stalking around the cottage, trying to find where his baby was hiding. He was having a great deal of fun looking under and inside different pieces of furniture and dramatically exclaiming, "Could he be under _here_?" 

Of course, he was just pretending for the fun of it. He knew for a fact that Crowley was currently on the ceiling, and had been trailing him around the sitting room for the past few minutes. He didn't know if Crowley knew that he knew where he was, but either way he could feel the merriment coming off of him in waves. 

Aziraphale had checked just about everywhere in the house, and knew that if Crowley was going to make a move he was going to do it soon. He scratched the top of his head like a monkey (or like a treeful on nitrous oxide). 

"Where oh _where_ could Crowley be?" he wondered out loud. "I just can't seem to find him. I certainly hope he's not planning to _ambush_ me, or anything demonic like that."

Aziraphale could tell that Crowley was barely holding in giggles above him. As he walked around a bit more, a sudden growling and a woosh of air was the only warning he had before the demon dropped from the ceiling. 

" _Rawr_!" Crowley snarled as he landed on Aziraphale's shoulders. Even though he had gotten a second to prepare, the angel wasn't properly expecting the sudden weight on his upper half, and stumbled as Crowley's claws dug into his upper arms. He tried to steady himself on a side table, but the angle of the force was too great and it was pushed over, angel and demon tumbling down after it. 

Aziraphale fell hard, and groaned after all the noise had settled. He pushed himself up from where he had fallen, feeling regret that he hadn't stayed on the carpeted part of the floor. The pain in his shoulder and head only registered to him for a second though, as he frantically looked for what was far more important. 

Crowley was sitting in front of the side table that fell, which now had one of its legs bent. Unfortunately it had had one of Aziraphale's angel wing mugs resting on top of it, for sipping his tea from like it had been some days ago, and it was shattered on the hardwood floor with leftover tea spilled from its remains. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale fretted, pulling himself over to where his boy was staring wide-eyed at the mess in front of him. "Darling, are you okay, are you hurt?" 

Crowley's breath hitched, and he looked up at Aziraphale. The angel was shocked to see those big eyes filling with tears, the mouth below them opened just enough for taking too-quick breaths. 

"I'm sorry," Crowley choked out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Aziraphale watched helplessly as his love hung his head and hunched his shoulders in on himself. He was visibly shaking now, and his caregiver could tell that he was beginning to hyperventilate, which wasn't meshing well with the fact that he had burst into tears in between apologies. 

"Honey-" Aziraphale maneuvered around the mess of broken porcelain to where Crowley curled into himself, more worried about him crying than the mess. He rested a hand on his shoulder, and once the little thing stopped flinching away he pulled him gently into his lap. 

"I'm s-sorry, I'm sssorry!" Crowley continued to sob, burying his face in Aziraphale's chest as he held him closer. 

"No no no, baby boy," the angel attempted to sooth, hugging and rocking his charge gently. "It was just an accident, just an accident honeypie. No sorries, no sorries now my little one, you didn't mean to." Feeling some tea seep against his trousers, he quickly miracled everything back to normal, the table upright and the mug back together on top of it. "Look my dear, you see? No harm done."

Crowley kept crying out apologies, and Aziraphale was starting to get worried about not knowing if he had gotten hurt or not. 

"I'm - _hic_ \- I'm sowwy," the demon whined, tears at least coming a little slower now. "I'm ssowwy I wasss naughty…" 

Aziraphale sighed, and pulled him even closer. "Oh darling," he muttered, "this is my fault."

"No, no," Crowley hiccuped. "Me, I wass bad-" 

"And that's because you thought I wanted you to be, because I didn't tell you what I was really thinking."

Aziraphale's little monster was temporarily shocked out of his crying, and he shifted uncomfortably. 

"I - I wasn't clear, I was trying say something without upsetting you, and I didn't let you understand because of that." 

Crowley let out a little confused noise as he peered up at him, and Aziraphale thought he could cry himself at the thought of leading his boy to such distress. 

"Honey, I-" Trying to find his words, and accurately this time, as he looked down at the little thing in his lap and stroked his cheek. "You are, such a wonderful, incredibly _good_ boy for me. You've always been a good boy like this, and you still are."

Crowley tilted his head as him, still trying to breathe more evenly, and Aziraphale shifted him to be leaning against him more. 

"And of course I'm not complaining about that, I just-" 

He breathed in deeply, clutching Crowley just a little tighter against himself. 

"I just wanted you to know that, you don't always _have_ to be my good boy."

The demon in his lap was still silent, trying to match his deep breathing. He saw bright eyes peering up at him, waiting for him to continue. 

"Honey, this isn't about some way I think you should be," he said sincerely. "This is about me wanting you to know that you have options. Because-" he tried not to let his breath hitch. "-I know there was a time when you didn't."

Crowley whimpered a little against his shirt, realizing what he was talking about. Aziraphale couldn't resist pulling him up into a proper hug. 

"And I know that you had to always be a certain way," he continued, shaking himself now, "and if you didn't you would be hurt. And I think that some of that fear is lingering, that even though you know that I would never hurt you, there's something holding you back from risking that." He paused to kiss the red hair by his lips, more to ground himself than anything. "Especially like this, when you're letting yourself be so incredibly vulnerable for me. You know how honored I am that you let me take care of you like this, and I want to make sure it's as freeing of an experience as it can be for you."

Crowley was whining softly, but trying hard to stay quiet to listen. Aziraphale was barely keeping the tears in his own eyes at this point, and it had nothing to do with Crowley's sharp claws digging into him through his jumper.

"And I want you to properly understand, that absolutely nothing will happen now if you act any worse than you usually do," he sniffled. "And that your safety, and comfort here is not dependent on how "good" you can be. Those things are essential, given freely, and will _never_ be taken away from you again, no matter what."

The demon in his arms let out a little sob, and he held him impossibly closer, drowning out the memories of the times when he wasn't okay with his scent and feel to remind himself that he _is_ okay now. 

"I just don't want you to be afraid of doing the "wrong" thing anymore. Because it won't hurt you now, and it never will again. I promise."

Crowley sniffled, and clutched onto him even tighter. Aziraphale didn't say anything more, just rocked gently, hugged his baby tightly, listened to his wheezing breaths starting to even out. Eventually he heard Crowley sniffle again, and felt him nuzzle against the crook of his neck. 

"I love you," he murmured softly against his caregiver's warm skin. Aziraphale squeezed him and kissed his tattoo. 

"I love you too," he murmured back, releasing his tight hold on Crowley so he could ease back a bit. He looked down at his ruddy, tearstained face, and the little one met his gaze with puffy eyes. 

"You're a good mommy," he croaked out, rubbing at the mess on his face with his fists. Aziraphale smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him again. 

"Thank you," he whispered, sounding reverent against Crowley's skin. "Now, will you let me keep being a good mommy my love, and show me if you got hurt anywhere?" 

Crowley whimpered and nodded, lifting his shirt up enough for Aziraphale to spot a little cut on his side. 

"My poor little thing," he cooed, giving his boy one more kiss on the forehead. "Why don't we go up to the bathroom to get that cleaned up and bandaged?" 

Crowley nodded again, so Aziraphale continued to hold him as he stood up, carrying him carefully as he walked over to the stairs. 

"I'll try better t' be okay," the little demon mumbled. "To know that 'll always be okay wi' you."

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head again. "That's all you have to do, my dearest," he soothed. "All you have to do is try."

They walked up to the bathroom, and the angel had a distinct feeling that everything would be fine. 

\---

Aziraphale yawned as the sun on his eyes woke him up. He sat up and stretched, feeling refreshed after a night with no nightmares from him or Crowley. 

Speaking of which, he spotted the demon off to the side, gazing at him warmly. He smiled, and leaned over to give him a peck on the lips. 

"Good morning, dear," he murmured. 

"Good morning."

"Still small today?" 

"Mmhm."

The angel stretched again, and pushed himself out of bed. When he looked back again after finding his clothes, Crowley was still staring at him, smiling unusually wide. Aziraphale thought he could see a little sparkle in his eyes too, and thought that his little one might be thinking of a game he'd like to play. 

But Crowley didn't bring anything like that up. As the morning brought them down into the kitchen he just kept staring at his angel, smiling and grinning, occasionally letting out little giggles. Aziraphale was getting a bit unnerved, happy about the giddy look in Crowley's eyes but not quite trusting it. 

"What's so funny?" he asked after another bout of giggling from the demon. 

"Nothing," Crowley responded, grin widening as he continued to watch his caregiver. 

Suspicious though he was, Aziraphale turned his attention back to the pancakes he was cooking for breakfast, three already made and this fourth one now going on the plate. Sweating a bit from the heat of the stove, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand before reaching for the batter again. 

As he grabbed the bowl, he froze. Lifted his hand up to see some kind of dark smudge, right on the back where he had swiped it along his forehead. 

He whirled around to the sound of more giggling, suspicions growing at the delighted look on his little demon's face. 

"What did you do, Crowley?" he asked as he hurried over to the closest mirror, narrowing his eyes at Crowley as he passed him. The angel felt extremely pleased at not seeing any of the normal anxiety on his baby's features, just a mischievous grin that he was attempting to hide behind his hands. 

Aziraphale stepped in front of the mirror, and gasped. His face had been extensively drawn on with some kind of black marker, which Crowley must have done while he was still asleep. There was a dark mustache on his lips, a monocle over his eye, some cat whiskers, and a variety of other things drawn to besmirch his pale features. What he had smudged near the top of his face was a thick line of ink connecting his eyebrows. 

"You little devil!" He turned back to Crowley, who was now fully laughing, leaning back in his chair as his prank was realized. Despite being so frazzled, seeing his little love so overjoyed and at ease with his naughtiness made a grin break out on Aziraphale's own face. 

"Ooooh, I'm going to get you for that!" he exclaimed playfully, stomping in a dramatic fashion towards Crowley. The demon squealed and shot up from his chair, running off. Aziraphale followed, chasing Crowley all around the cottage. 

"I'm going to get you, you little monster!" he shouted after him, feeling thrilled at their little chase. 

Crowley laughed as he ran ahead of him, glancing quickly over his shoulder as he went up the stairs. Aziraphale made sure that all of his joy was shown plainly on his face, so that his little one could tell without a doubt that they were just playing. And he saw it, and smiled at him as bright as a star before falling to his hands to crawl faster up the stairs. 

Aziraphale laughed with him as he continued to give chase, feeling so happy about having such a naughty little baby. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I won't make anymore promises about when I'll have new stories up, since I genuinely just don't know. Wish me luck in getting to live on campus in the fall.


	18. Tantrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I keep posting these late as hell. Y'know I do want to write a lot of the time, but then I just don't? Because watching YouTube is so much easier?? Maybe someone should take my Wi-Fi away for a while.
> 
> (This isn't even a long chapter I just couldn't fucking write until it was too late. The "essay on its due date effect", if you will)

"Shhh, shhhhhh, it's okay little one, it's okay."

Crowley was trying hard to listen to his angel's soothing words, he really was, but he could only do so much when his senses were already being flooded - with the deafening sound of his own harsh breathing, the hotwet feeling covering his face, and the intrusive thoughts that just _wouldn't leave him alone._

He just wanted to _rest,_ that's all he wanted - to sink into that soft headspace where everything was _fine_ and he didn't need anything other than a soft blanket and his angel to feel better. 

But it wasn't _working,_ he was there but he couldn't feel any better or more numb no matter how hard he tried, and the sweet words and hugs from Aziraphale weren't doing much either. He wanted to let the affection just wash over him and drown out all the unpleasantness, but it's not like he had a choice in the matter. 

"Shhh, my baby," Aziraphale continued to croon, "hush now, hush now. Just breathe for me, just breathe, that's it."

Crowley hiccupped trying follow him. "I can't, I _can't-_ " 

"You can!" the angel insisted, looking very much like he wanted to give Crowley another hug (but he's such a good mommy that he held back, knowing that his little one wouldn't be okay with touch at the moment). 

"No I _can't!"_ the demon wailed, wishing like he often did that he could just disappear from reality, just for a few minutes. This was one of the times when it wasn't enough for the intrusive thoughts to spring flashbacks on him, no, they brought back all the disgusting _emotions_ that he felt during his time of trauma as well. All the guilt and shame, all the self-loathing and fear and _helplessness_ he experienced throughout his captivity was bubbling up to the surface with the memories, and the _feelings_ tended to linger even if he managed to break out of a flashback. 

"I-it's not- _hic_ -not _fair,"_ he sobbed, pulling his blankie tighter around himself. "This shou- _hic_ -ssshouldn't still be happening! I sh-should be over thisss already-" 

"Darling, darling," Aziraphale said softly. "There's no "should" about it. You're still healing my love, I know this is all terrible but I promise you, it's perfectly normal. You just have to be patient with yourself-"

"I don't _wanna_ be patient!!" Crowley screeched, pulling away from the hand that was reaching out to him. "Y-you keep telling me that, be patient, be patient, and I'm _sick of it!"_

Aziraphale's eyes widened just slightly at the outburst, but the demon wasn't paying attention, clutching his blanket even harder as he felt himself getting more and more worked up. 

"I've _been_ patient," he cried, "I've tried and tried it and it's not _working,_ because it _still hurts!_ It won't stop hurting, it doesn't _ever stop hurting!!!"_

"Crowley-" 

Crowley wailed and, for some reason now beyond his control, his body threw itself down on the ground. 

"It's not _fair!"_ he screamed, pounding the wooden floor with his fists, legs joining in behind him. "It's not _fair, I just_ _want it to_ _STOP!!!"_

The demon at this point had lost all control of his body, screaming and crying as his limbs flailed and pounded on the floor beneath him. His blankie was still covering a great deal of his body, head included, so there was little to no sensory input for him to receive other than the hardwood against his body as it thrashed about. At some point his claws formed and he started scratching at the floor, feeling the wood splinter and crack beneath his sharp nails. The pain didn't register, nothing existed to Crowley in this moment except his Earthen body, taking over for him as he screamed and screamed all the horrible pain and frustration out into the floor. 

For his part, Aziraphale sat back and watched this display with bated breath, and waited. Waited until Crowley's screams started to die off. Waited until his limbs slowed down, barely hitting the floor now until they went completely still. Waited until all he could see was a quivering mass of blanket, curled up with soft sobs coming from it. 

Then he shuffled forward. He carefully touched the mass, next to the red hair sticking out from underneath the blanket. He rubbed there, gently, for just enough moments to let the little demon under his hand know who he was. And then he gathered him up, pulled him into his arms, his lap. Not saying a word, just gently rocking and shushing as his baby continued to cry, much gentler than before. 

Aziraphale turned his gaze away from Crowley's soft reddened face to look at the damage that had been done to the floor from sharp claws. And then he looked at those claws themselves, and cringed at the sight of all the splinters embedded in his love's spindly fingers. The floor could wait, be fixed with a miracle later to avoid upsetting Crowley further. But the wood in his fingers was a different matter, and Aziraphale suspected that the pain was going to start registering very soon. He could take Crowley up to the bathroom and carefully tweeze out all the little bits of wood, but it would be quicker and ultimately less painful to do it with a miracle. The angel never did any of those to his demon these days if he could help it, but he hoped that just a quick one would be fine, better than the alternative. He quickly gave Crowley an apologetic kiss on his forehead, and quietly swiped his grace with intent along his fingers, ridding them of the wood and cuts. 

The babe in his arms immediately tensed up at the feeling of angelic magic mending his flesh, and started crying harder, closer to how he'd been at the start of this episode. Aziraphale held him close and muttered "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," pulling his blankie around his thin form more snuggly and rocking him until he was all out of tears. 

When all was eventually quiet, Crowley was left sniffling, clutching at Aziraphale's vest tightly. He still felt tense in the angel's arms, the realization of how he had behaved coming to him now, along with the worry of what his caregiver would have to say about it. Aziraphale said nothing for some time, just kept humming to himself, rocking his little darling back and forth until everything was quiet, until both of them were relaxed. Then he sighed, and gave Crowley a gentle kiss on his nose. 

"All the time we've done this," the angel spoke softly, "and you've never once before given me a tantrum."

Crowley tensed back up. "I'm sorry-" 

"Shhhhhh," Aziraphale hushed. He kissed his temple and bounced him gently. "I'd say you were quite overdue for one, weren't you?" 

Crowley let out a little noise in confusion. He looked up at his caregiver, who was gazing at him with the most tender expression on his face. 

"My beautiful darling," he said softly, reverently, stroking a lock of hair behind the demon's ear. "All this pain, all this stress you carry with you every day, I could never even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for you to live with."

Crowley tried to interrupt that no, he knew Aziraphale could imagine it because he had to deal with him every day, but the angel shushed him with another kiss. He sighed and pulled the little thing in his arms closer. 

"Everything that has happened to you, and all of the fallout," he continued, "you have handled it all with such grace, such understanding and _kindness,_ and I am in awe to see how you can still be so wonderful after what you've been put through."

Aziraphale inhaled sharply, emotions starting to get to him at the subject of conversation. He looked back down at the love of his life, peering up at him while relaxing in his embrace. 

"But my dearest-" Aziraphale pulled him just a bit closer. "-you don't have to be that way. You shouldn't _ever_ feel that you have to be that way." Crowley was still watching him, tears forming at the corners of his eyes again. The angel kissed them away. 

"You should be _furious._ You should be angry and upset, at the injustice you've had to suffer, at the pain you still have to live with everyday. And the expectations that have been placed on you on top of it-" Aziraphale had to press another firm kiss against Crowley to tamper down his own anger, which was always resting under the surface of himself these days. "You have more than a right to those messy, ugly emotions, and to show them whenever you please."

He looked down at his demon, and tears were rolling down his cheeks again, soft amber eyes puffy and red as they met his. And the angel's face softened, and he leaned down to kiss the tears away. 

"Please my love, don't repress yourself," he murmured. "You're free to throw a fit whenever you please, and I won't ever be upset with you for it."

Crowley sniffled, and he turned his eyes onto the broken section of floor and whined. Aziraphale quickly pulled him back in, tilting his head up to his with a gentle hand. 

"Never ever," he said firmly, sealing the truth of his words with another forehead kiss. "Things can be repaired and replaced, but you are priceless. Never forget that."

Crowley sniffled a little again as he breathed through parted lips, which Aziraphale pressed just one more little kiss to. He sighed and held the little demon closer, letting him calm down. 

"What if we got you cleaned up honeypie, hmm?" he hummed. "See if you might be able to handle a bath? Have some ice cream too?" 

Crowley whimpered and gave him a tiny nod from where his head was nuzzling against Aziraphale's chest. The angel held him tightly and stood up, carrying him on his way to the stairs, already thinking of what kind of a treat he could give him for this wonderful progress he's made. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I'll be reading other GO stories here and I'll see commenters that I recognize from other stories I've read, a lot of others in some cases. I've even seen some of you from my own comments section here! It just makes me feel a little fuzzy, to think that even on the internet the world may not be so big after all. Or that there's just a bunch of people that have similar tastes to mine.


	19. Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave y'all hanging for so long again. College is starting for me soon and they're letting me live on campus, so I've got to get ready to move in. I'm glad I could at least get this in before summer ends.

Getting drunk, in Aziraphale's experience, was a very good way to set your problems aside for the moment. 

Oh, liver damage? Alcohol poisoning? No no my dear, no risk of that here. The bodies of ~~occult~~ _ethereal_ entities have no capacity for such trivial damages, the only threat from partaking too much here was forgetting oneself and doing something stupid. 

Aziraphale thought that he may have done so already, but he wasn't quite sure. The buzz in his mind was a very pleasant distraction. 

The time of day he didn't know, but the light coming into the cottage was soft, almost fuzzy. He rocked in his armchair, bottles of wine and rum and one of vodka on the table next to him, at least two of them almost empty already. He was still nursing a glass of wine, taking small sips now, a warm weight resting against his leg. 

He peered down. There was the love of his life, leaning on him, soft on the floor with one of their four oversized onesies drowning out their frame (was it still only four? Surely Aziraphale had bought more for them since the last time he counted, it's not like he had much in the way of self-control when it came to buying his spouse cute clothes). Their spindly fingers peeked out underneath the oversized sleeves and were wrapped around a bottle. It looked empty now, but Aziraphale could have sworn there had been milk in it earlier. 

He couldn't see much from this angle, couldn't even see any of their face. But even with all of his reality-loosening intoxication, the angel saw the relaxed way they were leaning on his leg and felt the warmth of love blooming in his chest. He did love them, so very, very much. No amount of alcohol could ever make him forget Crowley. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, all the love wrapping around him well a soft, well-used blanket. 

"You're tired of it, aren't you?" 

Aziraphale stayed still for a moment, then pulled himself dazedly out of his warm disorientation, sitting up and looking down at Crowley with a muddled expression on his face. 

"Sorry, what was that dear?" he asked through a haze. 

"Tired. Of, all of this." He saw Crowley make a sweeping gesture towards their entire body. 

The angel still wasn't quite sure what they meant. But he felt that maybe they weren't as relaxed as he had previously thought. There was something he could hear in their voice, the same kind of deceptive casual tone that they used to misdirect when they were talking seriously about something. It was almost exactly like real casualness, enough to fool most. But Aziraphale had known his demon for millennia, and could hear better than most. 

"What, exactly is "this"?" he groaned slightly, raising a hand to rub at his brow. He tried to focus himself in the touch, there and still against his leg. 

"Y'know," Crowley muttered, sounding just a little more deflated, "this." They gestured again, this time waving the bottle in their hand. Aziraphale thought it looked like a baby bottle, but against the fluff of their sleeve it-

The angel's eyes widened, and he started coughing violently as just a bit of reality snapped back into place for him. 

"Oh- oh dear," he choked out between coughs. "Oh my dear, I don't know why I'm like this - _cough,_ I should be taking care of you now, I should sober up, I'm sorry-" 

"Don't," Crowley snapped. "Please, don't."

Aziraphale paused at the demon's request, falling silent after getting a few more small coughs out. He wasn't sure why he didn't force the alcohol to leave his system upon realizing that Crowley was little, but he found himself falling back into slight unawareness again. It was comfortable, at the very least. He wished he could make Crowley comfortable too. 

"I know you're tired," they said after a while. "You're getting drunk during the day, but now I've gone back to being like _this._ " 

The way they said "this" was laced with venom, and it made Aziraphale frown. They didn't sound little, even if their posture and outfit screamed that they were. He wasn't sure he liked it, and he would probably be more sure if he wasn't an inch away from being wasted. 

"Love," Aziraphale spoke while trying to get a better look at the demon, "why exactly am I "tired" again?" He saw Crowley hunch over on themself. 

"You never asked for a kid," they said quietly. "You were supposed to have a partner, a spouse. And either way you've signed up for more work than you should have."

Aziraphale felt his face scrunch slightly from more than just the bitter aftertaste of the alcohol. "More of what work?" 

Crowley shrugged. "I know I'm a lot to handle. Bad fortune follows me, 'n all that. And it hurts you too when stuff happens to me."

The angel frowned more. "Of course it does. I love you."

"I know," Crowley sighed. "But that shouldn't hurt you. And it will, because you're around all the time now and you'll know everything. Everything bad that will come to me. You're already this tired from the last thing, and it's been years."

Aziraphale couldn't help but think that they had had this conversation before, but he was probably sober then. If he still was now, he might be able to tell what was different, what had brought this on. But as it was he could only try to to push through the cloud of inebriation to remain coherent. 

"Dearheart, what are you talking about?" 

"You know what I'm talking about."

Aziraphale did, but he didn't want to think about that at all. 

"Darling-" 

"You know I'm right. You know that's not the first time I've been fucked over royally." Aziraphale didn't like his little one's voice sounding like this, so dejected and adult. It should sound soft and sweet while they were small, interspersed by giggles and laughs like bells. He _especially_ didn't like the things they were saying with that voice.

"That is _not_ your fault-" 

"You told me that already." Even with Crowley's face not visible, he could almost see a sad smile on their face through their voice. "I think I can accept that now, that it's not my fault. But, it's still _me,_ you know?" 

"I don't follow." 

"Me. I don't know if I'm just too obvious or different or whatever it is, but these worst sorts of things always happen to me. They always have and they probably always will." The demon's anxious hands were toying with the nip of their bottle now, and Aziraphale still couldn't see their face. "I know we've got a pretty good thing right now, but even if it lasts some bad shit is definitely going to come looking for me again, and you'll have to deal with the aftermath. Again."

"Crowley-"

"I can't stop thinking about it." He could feel Crowley shaking now, he was sure of it. "About what will happen next, maybe I'll be tortured or something worse again-" 

Their breath hitched, and they were curled up and still shaking, and they didn't know why this all came tumbling out in the soft sunlight of a day that looked like it should have been without worries. 

"And you'll still be here because you love me and you're too stubborn to do anything else. Knowing that," Crowley shuddered as they spoke, "I'll just attract more bad things and people again and when I do you'll still be tired-" 

"Fuck that."

The head beneath him whipped around faster than Aziraphale could process it, and he finally saw those lovely golden eyes, and the silent tears that were threatening to spill over from them. 

"Oh, I am sorry my dear," the angel hiccupped. "I know you don't like bad words during your, your - time when - well, anyways."

Crowley's eyes were still wide as he reached a blurry hand down to cup their cheek (actually, everything was a little blurry wasn't it?). He stroked his thumb over the soft skin of their left cheekbone, felt a pinprick of wetness as one of their tears slipped from a serpent's eye and slid down to his fingerpad. 

"I'm, I know you already know that you've been lied to. That a terrible, ugh, disgusting monster lied to you, over and over, and you had no choice but to believe it. But I've been, I've been thinking you see, and- hasn't that always been the case?" 

The demon didn't say anything, still just staring up at him, tears formed before now quietly falling from their eyes. Aziraphale felt peculiarly as though he was not quite in his body, didn't really know what he was saying. But he had to say it, whatever it was. He held Crowley's other cheek with his hand that was suddenly absent of a wine glass, and let the words continue to fall from his mouth. 

"What I don't think you truly compr, com, understand darling is that- Well, you say it's you, but it's not, and- _urp_ , excuse me dear- and I'll tell you why. Because hasn't everyone who's ever been horrible to you been lying to you, this whole time?" Aziraphale grimaced to himself. "Or they, they did. Past tense, love, grammar is important." 

Crowley closed their eyes and leaned into his touch as he kept gently stroking their cheeks, wiping the tears away. Aziraphale loved them so. 

"Because that's, how it is with horrible people. They do horrible things, terrible things to others- and maybe there has been a lot done to you, but-" A pause to shift in his seat, closer to the edge, to Crowley. "-But here's the thing, dear boy. Those horrible people, they don't take responsibility for what they've done, do they? Sometimes they relish in it, but often, what do they do? They put the blame for their awful, horrible actions on others, on those they hurt- on you, baby." The angel was already leaning forward, so he leaned down to kiss Crowley on the forehead, because why not. "Much less of a burden for them it is, if they can simply turn around and go, "oh, it's your fault I hurt you actually, not mine. I didn't really do anything then, did I?""

Since he was already right there, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the little demon, as gently as such strong limbs could. And he kept being gentle as he lifted them up, leaned back and set them down on his lap. 

"And how convenient it is for them, if- If enough of them lie to you, over and over and over again, in that same way, that you start to believe it. That you believe it enough that you let them continue to- Oh no, no no no my love, I didn't mean to use the words- er, to word it that way." He pressed an apologetic kiss to Crowley's cheek. "You never _let_ anyone do anything bad to you, or be awful to you, because my point is- well, we're getting there, just a minute. It's just that I believe that you may be, ah, less inclined to resist or protest such treatment, after a while, as it were. If you're stuck thinking that, well if it's your fault anyways, then why bother to protest it? Better to spend more of your energy, figuring out what's wrong with _you_ , and see if you can change yourself than to understand who's really at fault, and tackle the real problem."

Aziraphale had one hand held securely on Crowley's back, the other resting on the long legs that lay perpendicular across his lap. The fabric of their onesie was soft, and so was their hair, and their face that was tilted towards him. Soft and casually blushy, and if he didn't know better he might've thought that they were drunk too. But no, the influence they were under was no drug or drink. 

"So perhaps- perhaps there's been a lot of monsters being, who've been horrible to you, dear, and perhaps you are the- the - um, common denominator in all that. But my point-" Aziraphale didn't know when the wine glass had gotten back in his hand, but he took a small sip anyways. "-the point I'm trying to make is that, even if that's true, it's still not your fault. None of it is, or has ever been your fault-"

The angel had been gesticulating sloppily with his wine glass bound hand as he talked, but the other remained firmly on Crowley. He couldn't read the expression on their face, but that likely had more to do with the alcohol than anything. 

"And you think you're special, my dear, but we've been around a very long time and we've both seen- I know for a fact that we've both seen this happen before, many times before, with the poor humans of this earth that can only do so much with their free will. Maybe you only think yourself different because-" Aziraphale took his hand off the demon for the only time to hide a small burp. "-oh, we've been alive a very long time, haven't we? And thousands of years of, of _abuse_ can hardly be compared to two to, two to- aha, to up to ten decades."

He wrapped his arm just a bit more around the little thing in his lap. They were still staring at him, clutching their bottle tightly. He _had_ to lean in to kiss them where tears were still falling from their eyes like stars, sure that if the love inside of him kept building without an outlet it would explode him into stardust. 

"But I've thought on it, love, and no matter the scale it _is_ the same. The same horrid lies and tactics to be awful, and not face any consequences that humans now have names for in books, in databases online. And if you can say that those poor humans who got fu- sorry dear, eh, got the short end of the stick in life as it were - if you can say that they were not at fault for all that they suffered through, which I know you can! You can and will, because my beautiful love, you are the kindest soul I have ever known, in spite of everything."

Crowley did make a little noise then, incomprehensible to Aziraphale in his drunken haze, but he kissed them again all the same. At this rate, he would soon resemble an atom bomb of pure love no matter what. 

"What was I saying? Ah, yes. If you can say that they weren't at fault, no matter how bad they had it, how many people were awful to them, _chose_ to be awful to them in spite of making them believe that no actually, you didn't- they didn't give them a choice because it's actually their fault, somehow-"

The glass was gone again. He wrapped both of his arms around Crowley, as if they were an atmosphere that could protect them from all that sought to fall in their orbit. 

"Then my dear, how could you ever say any less for yourself?"

The whole cottage was quiet. There was no creaking of wood, no scurrying of mice, no traffic on the lonely road outside. The only sound was from the steady rocking of an armchair, back and forth. Crowley was quiet too. Aziraphale looked up at their face again, where saltwater was still rolling down their cheeks, and the sound of their breathing was hitched, but other than that they were making no sound. They weren't staring at him anymore, maybe they couldn't bear to, looking to some distance instead. He didn't mind, as it allowed him the perfect angle to press a kiss to their cheek. 

"Darling," he murmured reverently, a prayer on his lips to the only being he would ever worship again. "You get like this so you can take the weight of the world _off_ of your shoulders for a time. Let it down now, my dear. It was never yours to bear to begin with."

Crowley sniffled. They still didn't look back at him as they started twisting the cap off of their baby bottle. He watched them reach over to the side table and grab a bottle off of there - he's not sure which one, maybe the vodka? - and uncap that too. They poured a generous amount of liquid into their bottle, then set the alcohol down and screwed the top back on. They brought it up to their lips, sucking and drinking as they leaned against him. And he kept holding them, like he never wanted to let go (because he didn't).

An angel and a demon sat together in an armchair, that rocked slowly when they moved. Bottles were all around, as they got drunk and were drunk, and it was an absolute mess in the gentle sunlight streaming through the windows. 

They were a couple of messes, but they were messes together. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. The next chapter is going to be pretty heavy, and as I'm preparing for college I don't know when I'll post it. But thank you everyone who reads this anyways, I hope you're all doing okay.


	20. Summoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. That's it's been more, than a calendar month. Believe me when I say that intended to have this next one done weeks earlier, but my body just wouldn't cooperate. I don't know why I keep doing this.
> 
> Also college sucks, but it's nice to be on my own for the first time.
> 
> Edit: thanks to [HakureiRyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakureiRyuu/pseuds/HakureiRyuu) for pointing out an inconsistency with the canon of Repossession in this chapter, it has since been edited to properly reflect this detail.

It was probably morning, and Crowley was sorely tempted to reach for his sunglasses. 

Beams of light were streaming through the blinds in front of the windows, falling squarely on the demon where he lay in bed. He didn't mind the extra warmth, but the sun in his eyes he could do without. 

Aziraphale wasn't in the bed with him as he woke up, so with a grumble he snapped his fingers and had the blinds readjusted himself. That fixed the problem of the sun shining directly through his eyelids, but there was now more light in the room than he was comfortable with before fully waking up. Crowley groaned and rolled over so that his face was pressed into his pillow. That took care of the brightness, but it wasn't as comfortable as he'd like it to be. 

Still keeping his face buried, he groggily reached an arm out and started flailing it to and fro, trying to grasp something that could shield his face from the early morning rays. Normally Aziraphale would do the job nicely, but he still couldn't sense the angel anywhere nearby. 

Frustrated with only more pillows, his other arm fell off the bed, and brushed against something fuzzy where it dangled. Crowley paused, and reached down further to grasp what was at his fingertips, pulling his (little self's) favorite stuffed bear out from underneath the bed. 

The serpent smiled to himself as he pulled it up, turning on his side and hugging the bear close to bury his face in its chest. Yes, this would do nicely. He wasn't feeling particularly little at the moment, but in his half-asleep state cuddling with the stuffie felt quite nice. Morning light sufficiently blocked out, he relaxed and wiggled under the covers a bit more, snuggling with his toy as he drifted back into slumber. 

\---

When Crowley awoke some unknown amount of time later, it was to the feeling of a hand moving through his hair, and warmth and softness all around him. 

He stretched a little as his body woke up properly, and the hand started scratching at his scalp in just the way he likes. He purred and shifted over a bit, still holding the stuffie from earlier in his arms. He no longer had his eyes closed in its fur, as the light in the room was now much more bearable (heh) than it had been before. Of course, that probably had something to do with the figure standing in front of the offending window, blocking most of the direct sunlight that highlighted his soft curls from behind. Like a halo. 

Crowley felt a soft smile form on his face. Well, not exactly like a halo, but in his opinion it was even better. Less holy burn with just the same amount of beauty. 

And more importantly, the same amount of Aziraphale. 

The angel's smile matched his own, and he felt his hand move to push a stray strand of hair behind his ear. 

"Good morning my lovely," Aziraphale spoke softly as his gaze took in the love of his life. The demon in bed wiggled a little under the attention and affection emanating from his partner, feeling happy as a clam in the fuzziness of a just-woken up consciousness. 

(And as Aziraphale took in the sight before him, he was happy too. This, he thought, was what Crowley should look like. The kind of state he should always exist in: happy, warm, and safe. He wanted to spend the rest of his life keeping him just like this, in whatever capacity he could.) 

Aziraphale leaned down to press a light kiss to Crowley's forehead, and the demon smiled so hard he felt the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"I have to go out for a while, love," the angel whispered against his skin. "It shouldn't take me all day, just about half at most. Will you be alright here by yourself?" 

Crowley hummed and nodded, and Aziraphale nuzzled his face. When he pulled away a thin hand reached out to grab his, and a questioning little noise came from equally thin lips. 

"Just a bit of business in London," he confirmed with a smile, lifting the hand in his up to kiss the back of it. "I'd invite you along but I'm afraid you'd find it dreadfully boring. If you'd like you could come find me later."

Crowley nodded again sleepily, thinking that he would absolutely not be doing that. Aziraphale let go of his hand but leaned down to pull him into a hug. 

"I love you Crowley," he murmured fiercely. "If you need me at all, for anything, you just call me and I'll come right back here, alright?" 

Crowley hummed once more and kissed the side of Aziraphale's head. Aziraphale kissed him right back. 

And then he was pulling away, and tucking the blanket back around Crowley, and he walked to the bedroom door and turned around once more before exiting. 

"Well, off I pop!" he said with a wiggle. "Goodbye my dear."

"Bye," Crowley whispered softly and with a little wave, as he watched the love of his life carefully shut the door behind him. He stayed still in bed as he heard him putter around the cottage a bit more, then the sound of the front door opening and closing. That would be the angel heading off, walking to the nearest bus stop. 

Crowley sighed, and wiggled a little under the covers. He supposed he could just spend the whole day sleeping, but he didn't really feel like going back to sleep at the moment. 

He nuzzled against the soft fur of the plushie still in his arms. He hadn't felt particularly little before, but the toy and the soft attention from Aziraphale had brought him down there a bit. 

Well, he thought, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to spend the day being small. It wouldn't be as nice without his angel here to take care of him, but that wasn't a necessity. He could still have a relaxing time by himself, playing with his toys or maybe drawing something. 

The demon hugged his teddy tight and kicked his feet under the covers. Yes, that would do nicely. He was already feeling littler at just the thought, and he cooed to himself in soft delight. With some more kicky feet he forced the bed covers off of his body, and rolled off the bed. 

"Oof." Crowley grunted as he landed on the rug. It wasn't too hard of a fall because his bear had pillowed his head, but it still wasn't a pleasant start to the day. 

He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes, willing himself to sit up. His mommy wasn't here right now, he'd have to take care of himself for the day, and he couldn't just go breaking down whenever. 

With a whine he hugged his bear, and started shuffling on his knees towards the wardrobe. There was a drawer beneath it, and when he pulled it out it showed a box within that contained the clothes he liked to wear when he was being more of a toddler than a baby (or more accurately, if it was a little day where he felt more like moving around and playing instead staying in bed with a paci). 

Crowley kissed the stuffie in his arms before setting it down, pretending that he was kissing someone else. He really did wish that his angel were here to dress him, and be his mummy for a bit. It'd at least be nice to talk with him. 

The scales on his feet brushed along something smooth, and he looked down at his mobile phone on the floor. Well, he supposed he could technically talk to Aziraphale. He'd said to call if he needed him, but this was just some silly clinginess of his, not an emergency. Although… 

Crowley picked up his phone and turned it on. He could always just text the angel, that would probably be fine. Aziraphale still wasn't the best with more modern communication methods, but he was learning! The demon opened his messaging app and typed out a quick text to his partner. 

_ > Hi mommy! I hope you have a good day today, I love you! <3 _

As soon as he hit send Crowley set his phone down and started rummaging through his box of clothes. He hadn't intended earlier to let Aziraphale know that he was little today, he didn't want him worrying too much. But in retrospect the angel had probably already come to that conclusion on his own, seeing Crowley fast asleep with his teddy bear. 

After putting on a nice big sweater to help with the weather that was starting to get chillier, Crowley picked up his phone again and smiled brightly at the sight of a text back from Aziraphale

_ > Hello my little one! I'll do my very best. Be good today, I love you too. _

Said little one held his phone tightly to his chest and nearly squealed. He couldn't help it, his mama always made him feel so happy. Even when he was at his lowest, his presence felt like a balm on an aching scar, especially when he was regressed. 

The sweater he was wearing had pockets, so Crowley tucked a pair of sunglasses into one and a soother in the other. Then he changed his mind about that one, taking it back out and popping it in his mouth instead. The sucking always seemed to keep him in the present, and he held his stuffie again for good measure, flopping down onto the soft bedroom carpeting. He could've easily gone back to sleep like that, small and soft, surrounded by comfort items, warm in his sweater and the sunlight. But he only rested for some time, focused on suckling his paci before reaching under the bed and pulling more stuffies out. He was going to have a nice, happy little day today. 

And so he did. Crowley played with his stuffed friends and toys for a bit in the bedroom, before crawling downstairs for more room. He played some more by himself, turned a cartoon on the TV and eventually pulled out his crayons and a coloring book. He managed to stay inside the lines for about five minutes before starting to just doodle on the pages, working on his stomach and kicking his feet behind him in time to the music on the telly. Then he put his sunglasses on and went to tend to his garden for a bit, afterwards crawling back inside and drinking milk straight from the carton ~~because his angel wasn't here to tell him not to~~. 

It had been such a nice day so far, and Crowley was determined to continue it. So he pulled himself up to the kitchen counter, thinking that a little cupcake or cookie would pair very well with his milk. But upon closer inspection there were no such treats on any of the countertops, having all been eaten earlier this week by the demon's husband. He pouted, but then thought that he might be able to ask Aziraphale to get something and bring it home while he was already out. Of course, it would still be at least a few hours before he got home. 

Crowley snapped his fingers and a pair of dark trousers appeared in his hand, and he stood up to put them on. There was a lovely bakery right in the town, it wouldn't be much trouble for him to go get something himself. And then he could surprise Aziraphale with it when he got home! The little snake smiled at the thought as he zipped up his trousers, imagining himself sitting on the angel's lap as they fed each other baked goods. 

Crowley giggled as he pushed his sunglasses into place and urged the scales on his feet to resemble shoes a bit more. His mummy would be sooo happy if he could munch on some croissants when he got back, he might even read him a story while he did so.

With a skip in his step the demon went out the front door towards his Bentley, grabbing his keys on the way even though he didn't actually need them.

As soon as Crowley crossed the threshold he felt a faint, dull stab of pain in his midsection, but quickly wrote it off as nothing to worry about as he got into his car. 

The pain didn't subside when he stuck the keys in the ignition to rev the engine (not that his car had an ignition when he got it, but Crowley's expectations of what a car should be like changed with the times and the Bentley was very accommodating). It stuck around as he pulled out of the driveway, and still he hardly paid it any mind. The milk might've gone bad he reasoned to himself, though admittedly it tasted fine. Say what you will, but if Crowley's time as Heaven's slave had done anything it'd been increasing his threshold for what was considered a concerning amount of pain. Also, making him forget that now in his freedom, he technically didn't have to feel pain from more common ailments unless he allowed it. 

So he drove down the empty country road, thinking of what he might like to get from the bakery. Cookies, of course, those little ones dipped in chocolate were some of his favorites. He'd thought of croissants earlier, so maybe a couple of those for Aziraphale - oh! He could get the ones filled with chocolate! Those are so scummy, Aziraphale would be so happy if he could have one when he got home! 

Crowley's happy humming as he thought on different pastries was interrupted by a grunt at a sudden, sharp pain behind his eyes. This was considerably less ignorable than the ache in his gut, which also happened to be growing considerably. 

Crowley groaned and tried willing the pain away once more, before conceding that something was wrong when it remained. He pulled the Bentley over to the side of the road, which was still deserted enough out here that no one would pay him any mind. Once parked he rested his head on the steering wheel, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. The demon thought on what could be the problem, which is hard when the pain in him was still growing and shifting. He felt his headache move to the back of his head, the knife in his guts pull upwards towards it. It almost felt as if the hurt was trying to push his body back, or like a string, pull him towards-

Crowley's eyes widened, and he banged his head on the dashboard. 

"Oh fuck, no no no," he started muttering desperately to himself, trying to pull his phone out of his pocket with shaking hands. How _stupid_ could he be? Sure this hadn't happened in a very long time, but he should have recognized the pain quicker than this. Now based on how far it had gotten along, it was too late to do anything. 

"No no, fuck, no no no no…" Once he finally had a reasonable grip on his mobile he quickly turned it on and dialed Aziraphale's number. He didn't have much time, the pain was still pulling, pulling-

"Come on, come on," Crowley muttered harshly, listening to the phone ringing from his end. "Aziraphale come on, please pick up, please-" 

The device dropped onto the car seat, as there was very suddenly no demon holding it or sitting in the seat himself. It kept ringing. 

In a blur Crowley found himself collapsing on a dirty floor. The pain he had been feeling was abruptly gone, but so was his car, his phone, and the English countryside air. 

"Shit."

\---

Aziraphale startled as his pocket started suddenly vibrating. His acquaintances at the table look up at the sound it produced as well. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said politely, recognizing it as the setting Crowley had put his mobile phone on when he was receiving a call. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the entrance of the cafe. He was here to facilitate between two rival antiques sellers over a spot of tea. He could tell that the tensions between them would soon escalate into something dangerous, and after a few business transactions with each today he figured he ought to try de-escalating things if he could help it. Of course, certain things did hold ultimate priority. 

Once he was outside the cafe and at a corner of the building free from foot traffic, Aziraphale pulled out his phone and smiled at the picture of Crowley gracing the screen. He tapped the little button under it and held the phone up to his ear. 

"Hello darling!" he cooed into the microphone end. "It's good to hear from you dear, how are you doing? Do you need me to come home?" 

Aziraphale waited a few seconds, expecting to hear Crowley's voice grumbling at him through the machine (which he still didn't fully understand how to use past making phone calls, but his husband had insisted), either a low drawl if he was back to himself or cute babbling if he was still little. But he didn't hear a single thing, not even some kind of movement. The angel's brow furrowed. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale said, a bit louder than before in case the demon couldn't hear him. "Crowley, are you there?" 

Still nothing. How odd, he thought, that his boy should call him and yet be the one not there to talk. Maybe he did it accidentally? He'd heard of "butt dials," so it was at least a fairly common occurrence with these phones. Of course, it could also just be the confusing new technology acting up, as that kind of technology is prone to do in Aziraphale's opinion. 

With a huff, he pulled the mobile away from his ear and glared at it, before pressing the red button that would end the call. 

"Blasted thing," he muttered, about to stuff the rectangle of a phone back into his pocket before thinking about it and opening the messaging app. More than one method of instant communication could certainly be convenient at times. With one finger he typed out a quick text to Crowley. 

_ > Hello love! I just received a telephone call from you, but you didn't answer when I picked up. Did you call me accidentally? Please let me know if you can. I should be home soon, I love you darling. _

Once Aziraphale pressed send on that message he finally placed the mobile back into his pocket. He half expected it to buzz with a new text immediately, but nothing came. 

Well, there was no need to worry. If Crowley had meant to get in touch with him then he would just respond to the text or call him back, and hopefully he'd be audible this time. Besides, it wouldn't be long now until he went home. He just had to broker one more sale today (to a woman who was definitely in the mob, but he wasn't about to comment on that), and then he'd head on back to the South Downs and Crowley. 

With renewed vigor he went back into the cafe, intent on getting his work done as quickly as possible, so much so that he didn't particularly notice the sudden tugging sensation in his gut. Hopefully until he got back to him his little Crowley would still be having a nice day. 

\---

Crowley was _not_ having a nice day. 

Well, he _was!_ But then these stupid bloody humans had to go and summon him to, to-

Actually, what kind of building was this? Big and definitely abandoned, maybe an old warehouse? That was always a classic. Could be a barn too though. Whatever it was, it was big and dusty and he _hated_ it here. 

Crowley pouted and crossed his arms, resigning himself to just examine everything as best as he could for now. He was inside a series of circles, obviously, thankfully drawn with chalk instead of blood (or something worse…he shuddered at the thought of a summoning that he had been victim to in the 14th century). Unfortunately they all seemed to be drawn pretty correctly, meaning that he was certainly stuck here until at least one of them got broken. Actually, upon closer inspection, there was a mistake in the fourth ring. Lucky for him, it was one that was meant to force him to obey commands, so at least he still had his free will intact. Lot of good that did him though, being stuck here and blocked off from any method of communication. In fact, he felt a cloaking spell around the building as well, powerful enough to keep the activities inside these walls unnoticeable to any outsiders. It would also likely be helping the circles keep him contained, and prevent anything like fellow demons (or an angel) from detecting him here. 

He was off the grid then, trapped and nearly powerless. So long as that was true, there were plenty of other ways to force someone to do what you want-

No, no, nope. Not going there, not now certainly. 

The demon finally gave a thought to his summoners and looked up at them. They had been huddled in a dark corner for the past few minutes or so, looking like they were discussing something in hushed whispers, partially obscured by a wall. They probably thought he couldn't see them, and he scoffed at the foolishness - and the fact that they were wearing robes. If there was one thing that made Crowley feel a bit better about his situation, it's the fact that his captors were wearing clearly pointless robes. No surer mark of an amateur, that. These were most likely just some bored rubes trying for some kind of edgy beginning to a new cult or whatever. With any luck, he should be able to use his famous silver tongue to convince them that they're really better off letting him go, maybe convince them to follow their true passions while he's at it. 

Crowley grimaced, and tried to subtly rub the edge of his soft sweater between his fingers for some minimal comfort. Of course, his usual tempting skills would be a lot easier to put to work if he wasn't still feeling little. 

He'd tried to will himself out of littlespace the moment he landed in this figurative hell hole, assuming that the shock from being summoned would make it easy. But it must have been at least five minutes now and he still couldn't completely pull himself back into his adult self. 

Well, it would have to do. His gracious hosts seemed to have finished their little meeting and were now walking over to him, in a way he suspected they thought was intimidating. God, if these idiots had conjured any other demon they would be so fucked. But Crowley was a rather courteous hellthing if he did say so himself, so he refrained from snarking as the man in the middle of the three stepped forward. Even with the hood covering the bastard's face he could read him like a book. Man with a fairly average life, mild superiority complex, probably fancied himself as the leader of this little ragtag gang of occultists. Unknown to him though, a quick look at the two flanking him let Crowley know that the others thought of themselves in that way as well. The only thing the center man had on them at the moment was a bit higher level of brash confidence, which was not always a good thing. Crowley was confident that he could have this guy eating out of the palm of his hand in minutes, with the other two following soon after.

"Demon of Hell," the man addressed him, in a voice similar to one used to make a public announcement. "We have summoned you here, oh great being of knowledge and wisdom, in order to form a contract."

Said demon suppressed a groan. Lord, were the humans still on about that? He wasn't some benevolent creature who gifted humanity with fruit of knowledge out of the goodness of his heart, he tricked them into it to damn them forever. At least there was no longer any risk from Hell finding out. 

Crowley glared at the three from where he was still sitting on the floor. "'Kay so, what, you need a tutor?" 

The bastard seemed slightly taken aback by this, as did his companions. They all spared each other quick glances before one of the other two stepped forward. 

"Like we said," the voice of a middle-aged woman spoke up, "we need to make a contract with you."

Crowley shook his head. "Mmm, no. What you _need_ is mental help. What, you want to know how to get one up on the other moms at the PTA?" 

He saw the woman's mouth gape open and closed like a fish, but before she could find her words again the first man cleared his throat loudly. 

"Demon!" he said just a bit too loudly, stepping even closer Crowley's little circle. "We did not bring you here to bargain. You _will_ make a contract with us - so do I command!" 

His words echoed throughout the empty space (quite appropriately dramatic), and Crowley smiled and tapped his fingers along his thigh for a few seconds. 

"Nope."

Such a simple, four-letter word was enough to cause such looks of confusion and fear on the faces of the supposed cultists (or what was visible under the hoods anyway) that the demon couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"Wha-?" The center man sputtered for a second before pointing an accusing finger at Crowley. "You! You cannot refuse what I ask of you while you are in there!" 

"Hmm, interesting hypothesis. Don't see any supporting evidence from your little experiment here though."

It was at that point the woman approached the man and leaned in close to whisper something in his ear. 

"Frank," she breathed impossibly quiet (or was it Hank she said? Fran? It didn't matter, in Crowley's mind this guy didn't deserve a name anyways), "I know we were pretty sure about which one we were summoning, but do you think it's actually too powerful for the spell?" 

"Oh no, the obedience enchantment is fine." Clearly the woman thought that he wouldn't be able to hear her, because she and the man both jumped in fright. The circles Crowley was trapped in did dampen his power, but he still had enough for some pretty above-average hearing. "Would've worked like a charm on me. But you spelled it wrong."

"What!" the man shouted and turned on the third person in their group. "You spelled it wrong!?" 

"Of course not!" the third person hissed at him, and their voice was quite androgynous. Crowley couldn't tell whether they were a man or woman or something else, which he instantly respected. He also noticed that they were holding an old book, which they opened and flipped through as they approached his circles. "I copied the transcriptions perfectly! Look, see!" 

"Nuh-uh," Crowley cut them off, pointing to the writing in the scrutinized circle. "You got that letter there wrong a few times, see? It's an easy mistake to make, it's similar to another one that-" 

"Whatever," the book person huffed, kneeling down to examine the circles more closely. "I'll just fix it."

"Yes, good, hurry!" the loud man said, leaning over them. 

"Oh no, wouldn't do that if I were you," said Crowley gleefully. "You're right next to the one holding my powers back there, practically kneeling on it, wouldn't want to mess up the chalk would you?" 

"No!" the man cried out, grabbing the robe of his companion and roughly tugging them backwards. "What is wrong with you!" 

"Ohhh, not being very nice to your friend there are you mister-" 

_"Shut up!"_ the man roared in his face, and Crowley couldn't help but flinch back. It wasn't fair, he was already in a bad headspace for this and the man was too close to him, and his voice was loud and deep and his chin angular in a too familiar way, and the circle the demon was trapped in was so small that he could barely scoot away. 

As he hunched in on himself and tried to will the burning in his eyes away, the man straightened his back and sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Well, this is just fucking fantastic."

There were some mutterings between him and the other two, and Crowley took the opportunity to look at the book his third captor had been holding. They dropped it when they got manhandled, and he scooched toward the edge of the circle where it lay. 

As soon as he saw the cover, his heart dropped a little. This old tome…he recognized it. From a long while ago. The group that had used it had been far more serious than this lot, at least at first glance. 

Crowley was starting to feel just a tad nervous. An actually accurate demonology book in their possession, and having the proper understanding of its to attempt something like an obedience enchantment, made him think that perhaps these people were not quite as incompetent as their silly little robes suggested. 

"Oh, stop getting so worked up!" The exasperated voice of the third person cut through Crowley's thoughts, and he looked up to see them break off from the group huddle. "We don't need the spell. It won't matter once we make our contract, and until then it's trapped in there. Which means we have plenty of time to convince it."

He watched them as they walked over to a bag resting on the dirty floor, and kneeled down to dig through it. They stopped and stood up, walking back over with a large vial now in their hand. It was filled with a clear liquid, and had a cross on the stopper, and as Crowley recognized it his nervousness turned into full-on panic. He was retracting any prior respect given to this person. 

The man of the seemed to recognize the holy water as well, and the demon saw his mouth curl up into an ugly grin. "Oh, good idea. Still a lot of extra work though."

"Now- now wait just a minute fellas!" Crowley cried out desperately, backing away in his trap as far as he could. "Surely we can work something out here, there's no need to resort to such, sssuch violence!" 

He felt the person with the vial examining him from under their hood as they stepped closer. 

"There will be no need if you cooperate," they said flatly. "I'm not sure why you're resisting. Our group has allowed us to promise all of their souls to you in exchange for your help."

"Really? S'some generous group," Crowley scowled, trying very hard to regain his composure in the face of that holy water. "I hope you're more than just some cult, I'm reeeeeally sick of cults. What d'you need from me anyways?" 

"Knowledge, duh," the woman spoke up. "That's your thing, isn't it? That book listed you as that kind of demon."

Crowley leveled her with a flat look, so the man annoyingly cleared his throat again. 

"For our group to rise in power," he started saying in that pompous announcer voice again, "we require the proper information and tactical prowess to assist us. The kind that can only be so easily granted by a demon."

"Well, look," Crowley tried, "I'd really love to help you out there, but I'm quite unfortunately retired. So why don't you just let me out of here, and I can put in a recommendation Downstairs and have them send up someone better suited for the job."

The three stared at him for a few seconds, and the demon tried not to whimper with discomfort. 

"...Retired?" the man spoke faintly. 

"Yep," Crowley said quickly. "Bet you didn't think a demon could do that, but hey, extenuating circumstances. So let's be reasonable here, and get you all that nice demonic power your little gang needs from someone qualified, eh?" 

They stared at him some more, then at each other. Then they huddled together and were furiously whispering some sort of discussion, speaking on top of each other so much that Crowley couldn't understand what they were saying. Quickly they turned around to face him again. 

"We will need some time to discuss these…unusual circumstances," the man said, trying to glare at him from under his head. "Do not try anything while we are gone, demon, it won't end well for you."

"You know, it's pretty rude to just call me 'demon'," Crowley huffed, trying not to sound too much like a petulant child. 

"Oh." The man paused, and seemed to shift a bit awkwardly. "Well…what's your name?" 

"Oh no you don't!" the demon yelled in frustration. "Names have power. I'm not that stupid."

The man spared another second to glare at him, then turned on his heel to walk off with his compatriots. 

"Wait, I mean, I'm not stupid at all!" Crowley shouted after them. 

They paid him no mind and kept walking. This was a big open building they were in, but maybe it had a smaller room off to the side. Crowley watched the three of them go, walking close to each other and speaking in low murmurs. 

"...what kind of thing we summoned exactly?" 

"Definitely a demon…book should have been right, but maybe…"

"...know about the PTA? Do you think he'd actually tell me how to get those gossipy bitches off my back?" 

"Bake some baklava for the next meeting and they'll be bowing at your feet!" Crowley hollered at their backs. They all jumped and glanced back at him, before running off to wherever they were going. 

The demon laughed as they disappeared behind some door. Well, unfortunately his hearing wasn't good enough to hear them now, so he'd have to work to know what they were thinking from now on. 

He sighed and lied down, grateful that the floor under the summoning circle seemed to have at least been sweeped before the ritual. He glanced at his left, and winced at the sight of the vial of holy water; that person had left it next to their book. 

Crowley rolled over and curled up on himself, letting out all the whimpers and sniffles that he had been pushing back. He hated this. He hating being summoned into this stupid building during such a nice day, having to convince some stupid people to not force him to be bound to their stupid cult or whatever, and on top of that having to deal with a stupid trigger to his stupid, stupid trauma. 

Despite everything he found himself giggling; he said the word stupid so much in his head that now it just sounded like nonsense. That was another thing he'd taken credit for, but really it happens just because even humans aren't dumb enough to escape the understanding that language is just a bunch of sounds put together in different ways. 

Crowley stopped being amused as soon as he thought of the day he had left behind. His toys, his drawings - his poor car! Left all alone on the side of the street, oh he hoped no one tried to steal her. All he wanted to do was go get some sweets, and look what happened. Their cottage had plenty of protections put on it to prevent this sort of thing while he was there, and he just had to leave right when some assholes were trying to summon him. Dumb demon. Now he was stuck here with jerks who could kill him if they wanted, and he didn't even get anything for Aziraphale… 

The serpent buried his face in his sweater. Oh Aziraphale, he would be so worried! But, he wouldn't be home for a while yet. Would he notice that Crowley was gone right away? Would he come looking for him? Oh that's silly, of course he would, they were bound to each other tighter than a braided rope. Crowley pressed a hand to his chest, where the mark above his heart was etched by the Almighty, symbolizing their commitment and matching the one on Aziraphale's own skin. 

But, would his partner even be worried, or would he think that he'd just gone out and forgotten to tell him? If that was the case, then it would be too long before he noticed something was wrong, which meant Crowley was all alone. 

He felt tears welling up at the memories that thought was bringing back, and the holy water nearby wasn't helping, even if it would just kill him instead of hurt him. With a whine, Crowley curled in on himself even tighter, drowning in his sweater and trying to keep the bad memories away as well as he could. 

\---

Aziraphale thanked the bus driver as he stepped off at the stop, pulling a reusable bag onto his arm. It was still a lovely day, though the sun was now getting closer to the horizon, so he felt no problem with walking home as he had walked to the bus stop that morning. It was on the road that led back to their cottage, so it wasn't that far. 

The angel hummed to himself as he walked down the small street briskly, excited to get home and see his boy. It had been about an hour since Crowley had called him, and he hadn't heard from him since, so he figured it must have just been a mistaken dial. Of course his text message had gone unanswered as well, which was more unusual, but it was most like that Crowley had simply fallen back asleep. Nevertheless, he was looking forward to going home to that lovely demon of his. Maybe if he was still little, they could make dinner together and read a story afterwards. Aziraphale smiled to himself. Yes, that sounded absolutely lovely. He continued to hum while the bag of things he had bought in the city swayed at his side. 

A dark spot on the side of the road had been getting bigger for a while now as he got closer, and as its features became more defined Aziraphale felt a strange hint of recognition. He picked up the pace, and was surprised to see a car on the side of the road. Not just any car, but a very familiar Bentley.

The angel jogged forward towards the car, stopping by the doors. Yes, it was most definitely the same car that had given him quite a few frights with Crowley in the driver's seat. He looked in through the windows, half expecting to see the demon grinning at him from inside, but there was no one. 

Aziraphale felt confused. He knew how attached Crowley was to his car, and he would likely never leave her abandoned on the side of the road like this. Did he lose her somehow? 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Aziraphale pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He would just call Crowley right now, see if he knew where his car was, and if he wanted him to the angel would bring it back. 

As he pressed the button to call on the screen, Aziraphale jumped at the sudden sound coming from inside the Bentley. He peeked in the window again, and was shocked to see another mobile phone on the driver's seat, ringing and vibrating with a picture of his face on its screen. 

Alright, now he was worried. Crowley most certainly wouldn't leave his car _and_ his phone out in the middle of nowhere on purpose. Aziraphale felt a sinking in his gut as he realized the implications of that. 

The cottage wasn't far now, so with an effortless miracle he had himself and the Bentley transported to the driveway instantly. He set his bag down on her hood and quickly ran up to the front door and opened it. 

"Crowley?" he called unto the darkness, hoping he would receive an answer. He didn't, and he already knew why. With how closely his and his husband's souls were knit together, if he was anywhere in the general vicinity he would be able to sense him immediately, feel his essence brushing up against his own. 

There was nothing. 

Aziraphale was panicking now. He tried to slow down his breathing and think of what could have happened. Crowley left in his car, and had to leave it and his phone in a hurry. Now his mobile he could have easily taken with him if he was running from something, which meant that he likely didn't have a choice in the matter. Was he captured? Summoned? 

Oh god, was he still _regressed?_ The angel despaired at the thought of a little Crowley taken somewhere against his will. What if his baby was scared, what if he was _hurt?_

As much as that thought terrified Aziraphale, it also resolved his will. Crowley might very well be fine, but he wasn't about to risk the chance that he wasn't. 

No, _never_ again. 

He stepped out of the cottage, and stretched out his wings in the plane they lay hidden in. Crowley might be somewhere away from him now, but that didn't fray the ties that bound them together. Aziraphale had taken a vow to himself when he got the love of his life back, and when he married him in every sense of the word, that never again would he be unable to find him. That no matter where he was, or what was being done to keep them apart, he would always be able to feel where Crowley is. Not even God herself could stop him (not that She would, since it was Her that helped make such a close bond possible, but that was beside the point). 

He made this resolve, and believed it with all of his heart. And when a powerful, unknowable being motivated by pure love believes something, the universe accommodates. Though it does help that he and Crowley were bound so tightly that it would've been fairly easy either way. 

So when Aziraphale placed a hand over the sigil on his chest and demanded that he be able to feel where Crowley was, he did. He tugged on their bond and felt where it led, a clear direction for him to follow, straight as an artery to his own heart. 

"Right then," he said firmly. "Here I come, dear."

And with a great flap of his wings, he was gone. 

\---

The nap Crowley had ended up taking on the floor out of boredom and stress was abruptly ended with a swift kick to his side. 

He screamed and rolled away from his assailant, who was the robed man from earlier, back with his matching friends. The impact knocked the demon's glasses off and they skittered away past the barrier of his circle trap. 

"Hey!" he shouted, sitting up and glaring daggers at his jailors. The pain in his side was horrible and quite flashback-triggering, but he couldn't cry now that his shields against the world were gone. "What was that for!?" 

"It's time to bargain, demon," the man spoke while meeting his glare head-on, a feat impressive for any mortal creature, especially now that his accursed eyes were visible. "Your little trick to try to get us to let you go was clever, but much like you, we are not stupid."

"Debatable," Crowley muttered, thinking that he should probably stand up instead of just sitting beneath these freaks. But he still felt little, and the stress he was under wasn't helping. 

"You will write a contract with us now," the man continued. "You can do so willingly, or we can force you."

"No, fuck off, I don't want to."

Crowley saw the man grimace under his hood. He turned and nodded at the person to his left, who nodded back and walked over to where the vial of holy water stood. The demon started panicking again quickly. 

"Hey wait! You don't have to use that, I won't be any use to you if I'm dead-" 

"It's diluted," the person who held the vial said, and _oh_ , that was _so_ much worse wasn't it. "We don't want to force you into anything-"

"Could've fooled me."

"-but we will do whatever is necessary."

Crowley is not shaking, he is _not_ shaking. As the cultists closed in around his tiny circle, he bared his fangs and snarled. 

"Back _off!"_

The woman yelps and the person with the vial stumbles back, but the man just seems to get angrier. 

"What is _wrong_ with you!" he shouts at the person, still getting closer to Crowley, too close. "Just torture it already, it can't hurt you! We're not going back there empty-handed!" 

"Why aren't you accepting our offer?" the woman shrieks, and Crowley takes some comfort in the fact that she seems as scared as he is. "There are so many of us! All of our souls, offered to you at the end of our lives, and for something so small!" 

"I don't _want_ your stupid souls!" Crowley howled, tears now streaming down his face. "I just want to go _home!_ " 

He doesn't see anything before he hears a loud _crack,_ his head violently forced to the side as the man slaps him across the face. 

The large room falls into silence as the sound echoes throughout. Crowley doesn't breathe, his eyes left wide in shock. He can't feel anything at all, until he feels _everything,_ and pain erupts across his cheek. 

He screams. He screams louder than anything mortal ever could, loud enough to shake the foundations of the run-down building they're in. All three of his captors fall to the ground with their hands over their ears, and he doesn't stop screaming. 

It's too much, it's _too much._ It was too much when he got summoned in this empty dark space, too much when he realized he was trapped here without a chance for help, too much when he was threatened with holy water. And now it really is too much, the pain on his face too familiar, just like everything else, and all he can do as an automated response is to throw his anguish in a demonic roar, his mouth stretched too far for a human, teeth too sharp and bared to the heavens. The pain doesn't stop, and neither does his screaming. 

\---

Aziraphale was on the edges of some town on the other side of the country. Luckily it hadn't taken him long to get here, but something was impeding his progress. He could tell that Crowley was somewhere in this general vicinity, but for whatever reason couldn't pinpoint his exact location. He would need to push harder to get through. 

Except he didn't, because all of a sudden he heard a scream in the distance. His head shot up in the direction it was coming from, because he _knew_ that scream. He knew the voice and the power behind it. He could see on top of a hill in the distance, too far for any normal scream from there to be heard, a large warehouse-looking building. Aziraphale stepped forward. 

_Move,_ he told the universe _._

And the universe did. 

\---

Aziraphale was inside the building now, a very large one that was certainly abandoned. "Was" being the key word, as if judging by the screaming loud enough to rupture the average man's eardrums, there was currently at least one person in here. 

He didn't have to go looking for Crowley. In the center of the room was multiple people, most writhing on the ground, and one inside a series of chalk circles. Aziraphale walked forward. 

His demon was still wailing when he stopped some distance away, likely not hearing him yet, since he didn't need to stop to breathe. Though he should've been able to sense his presence, but perhaps he was in too much pain to feel that clearly. The angel then tripped a bit over his own foot, and the sound of the echo was enough to taper off the screaming from Crowley, and make him look over. 

Aziraphale met Crowley's gaze and his heart broke. His eyes were wide and reddened and wet, and he was down on the dirty floor, looking up at him with a frightened and hurt expression. It reminded the angel far too much of that day he was called up to Heaven and found the love of his life, presented before him broken nearly beyond repair. 

Except now there was nothing stopping Crowley from crying out for him, and Aziraphale from running forward to pull him into his arms. 

He rushed past the chalk circles and broke them all along the way, falling to his knees in front of Crowley so he could wrap his arms around him. The little demon started crying at a normal volume, hugging him back tightly and sobbing into his shoulder. 

"Oh, my sweet boy!" Aziraphale cried out, scooping him into his arms. He felt sorrow at the knowledge that he really had still been regressed, while trapped here for who knows how long. "I'm here now, I'm here, are you hurt? Oh my darling, I'm so sorry!"

He stood back up with Crowley in his arms, who was still clinging to him tightly and wailing his little heart out. The angel rocked and bounced him gently and kissed where the tears were flowing from. 

"My dear boy," he crooned softly, "my little one. I'm here now, you're safe, you're safe now. Mummy's right here."

Crowley cried and sniffled in between his neck and shoulder, and nuzzled there, trying to take in the comforting scent of his angel through the snot in his nose. Aziraphale giggled when he flicked his tongue out against his skin. 

"I'm right here little one," he murmured, looking down fondly as Crowley slowly extracted his face from the crook of his neck. "Don't you worry about a thing now-" 

Aziraphale stopped as examined Crowley's face more closely. Specifically, an angry red mark on his cheek. He slowly reached a hand up, gingerly tracing the side of his face, fingers brushing delicately over the reddened skin and through the tears still slipping down. His demon was still looking up at him with wet and puffy eyes and breathing hard, as he realized that the mark was shaped like a handprint. 

His gaze snapped up at the sound of groans. He saw three humans shakily standing up, and redhot rage erupted inside of him. 

Crowley felt one of Aziraphale's hands suddenly on the back of his head and squeaked as it pushed his face into the crook of his soft neck, while his arms pulled him even tighter against his body. He could feel something in Aziraphale slipping out, rising up. 

_"How_ **_dare_ ** _you."_ The sound of the angel's voice reverberated throughout the enormous room, and Crowley could tell that he was letting his true form start to take shape around his soft bookseller body. He heard at least one of the cultists fall back down, and was certain that between his own screams and the newly ethereal (read: incomprehensibly powerful) quality to Aziraphale's voice, they would have a hard time making out his words past their own fear. 

_"You hideous_ **_bastards,_ ** _"_ his voice continued to boom, beautiful and furious. _"Which of you_ **_dared_ ** _to lay a_ **_disgusting_ ** _hand on_ **_my baby?_ ** _"_

Crowley whimpered into the holy skin, and couldn't help but start shaking. He knew Aziraphale's rage wasn't directed at him, he knew he was holding him to keep him safe, he _knew_ that. But there was still an angry angel in his presence, so much so that he could feel it through to his bones, and it was hitting the buttons in his metaphorical brain in all the wrong ways. He buried his face even more against Aziraphale's neck, and could only hold on tighter as the loud anger made him cry out the metaphysical approximation of _I'm scared I'm scared don't hurt me please don't hurt me I'm scared-_

All of a sudden it stopped. The intense waves of righteous fury halted, and Crowley tried to stop shaking. The arms around him loosened considerably, and he retracted his claws from fabric and released his own tight hold. With a few steady breaths he let himself fall fully into the arms below him and looked up.

And there was Aziraphale, his face soft as ever, gazing at him with the gentlest expression. He still had that glow about and around him from letting himself loose from his body a bit, a hint of that true face that he saw in his dreams, and when Crowley felt for that anger it was still there. It was pushed back as far as it could go, and in front of it all the warmth and love he could muster to shield him from it. And that warmth and love was all the demon could feel towards himself as Aziraphale gently brushed a hand against his cheek. 

"Which one hurt you, baby?" he murmured softly. "Show me." 

Crowley sniffled, and lifted his hand up to point at the human man. He definitely couldn't hear what they were saying, but based on his now hoodless and very clear expression he likely had quite the inkling. 

"That one?" Aziraphale asked quietly. Crowley nodded. "Alright." The angel placed a kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry about a thing now, my dear. I'll take care of everything."

With that, Aziraphale stood at full height and faced his captors again. Crowley felt a sudden rush of air, and looked up at the sight of his partner's wings breaking into this plane of reality. They were large and beautiful, and close enough to their true selves to induce a headache in any human. He could tell that they were both intimidating and hurting the cultists, but before they could appreciate the sight properly, the wings folded up in front of the angel and wrapped around Crowley. 

He looked all around from where he was still being carried in Aziraphale's arms. Somehow the feathers of the wings had maneuvered around him in such a way they completely blocked out anything outside of their embrace. But it wasn't completely dark, as the feathers emitted a soft glow that was just enough to make Crowley feel calm and safe. 

He calmed down steadily in that cocoon of feathers, unable to hear or see anything outside. Aziraphale was still holding him, and he felt him move around a few times, but not much. At one point he heard the feathers above his head rustling, and they parted just enough for his angel's soft face to poke through and pepper his face with rapid-fire kisses. Crowley squealed at the onslaught, and felt Aziraphale smile against his skin before he went back up, closing the wall of feathers again. 

After what must've just been a few minutes the wings around Crowley finally shifted. He saw outside light peek through as the feathers parted, and all at once the wings flapped back and out of existence again. 

He took a quick glance around the room, noting that it looked untouched as the summoning circles and cultists were gone, and to his immense relief so was the holy water. The book might've been that pile of ashes some feet away. 

And then Crowley turned his attention to Aziraphale, who looked so relieved and happy to see him in his arms that the demon could barely keep himself from bursting into tears again. He reached up to properly hug him, and his love kept holding him as he hugged him back. 

"Can we go home?" he whined softly against his neck. 

The arms around him tightened. "Absolutely."

As Aziraphale walked towards the exit, Crowley felt tired and heavy. His head felt like it was made of molasses, and he could've just floated away from himself like that. But instead he found himself falling back on his oldest bad habit. 

"Did you…?" he tried to ask, pointing back to where the three cultists had been. He couldn't find the words to finish his question, but Aziraphale somehow knew what he meant, and he sighed. 

"No, darling."

"...Did you want to?" 

Crowley felt him shift his hold. "Perhaps."

The sound of Aziraphale's shoes against the dusty floor echoed throughout the building. Crowley wished his mind would stop racing. 

"That lady…" He tugged on Aziraphale's shirt anxiously. "I think she had kids, I think-" 

"She'll be fine," the angel assured him. And he wasn't lying; he made sure that the woman would receive a shorter sentence for kidnapping and government conspiracy, further reduced by her revealing the details of their little group. He could tell that unlike the other two, she hadn't wanted to inflict harm on Crowley, or actually did so. So she would certainly get off much easier than her compatriots (who maybe Aziraphale did want to kill, but if that was ever a decision it would be Crowley's. He wouldn't take that or any other decision that was his away from him). 

Crowley was quiet as they stepped outside, into the daylight that was rapidly turning orange at the horizon. Aziraphale looked down at him, and could tell how exhausted he was. 

"Are you ready to go, my love?" he asked. The redhead nodded, and he tightened his grip on him and took off towards their home. 

\---

Aziraphale touched down gently on the street before their cottage. He felt relieved at finally being home, and looked down at Crowley, who likely would've felt the same if he wasn't clearly so dead tired. 

"Here we are," he cooed down at him, kissing the top of his head. The demon mumbled something and glanced up at him with sleepy eyes, and Aziraphale smiled at him as he started walking towards their cottage. He moved slow enough to not disturb Crowley. 

"Did you get summoned?" he asked quietly, not able to keep his burning curiosity at bay. Crowley nodded. 

Aziraphale thought of something then, and pulled a dark rectangle seemingly out of thin air, handing it to Crowley. "Did you try to call me before you got taken?" 

Crowley nodded again. Aziraphale suddenly remembered that tugging in his middle that he'd felt when he picked up his phone but dismissed quickly, and felt a pang of guilt at not realizing the obvious. 

"Oh my dear, I'm so sor-" A hand slapped over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. 

"Don't," Crowley grumbled. "Don' do that. S'not your fault. Stupidhead."

Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle at Crowley's familiar ornery attitude, and they walked up the driveway.

"Oh, I found your old girl here out on the road," the angel said, patting the Bentley fondly. "Brought her right home for you."

Crowley reached out a hand to run it along his car, his expression upset again. "I didn't get any…"

"Pardon?" 

"I was goin' to the bakery in the village," he sniffled, curling back up in Aziraphale's arms. "I was gonna get you croissants, a-and cookies for when you got home, and I didn't…"

Aziraphale listened to what Crowley was saying with raised eyebrows, and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he walked toward the front of the car. 

"Well then, my dear," he said, plucking the bag he had left there earlier off of the Bentley's hood and rummaging through the contents, "I think you'll be rather pleased with what I purchased while I was in London."

Crowley watched as his angel impressively maneuvered his hands to be able to pick through the bag while still holding him, and with some effort he finally pulled out a small box. He flipped the lid open with a finger, and Crowley gasped.

"Cookies!" he squealed, squirming happily at the sight of bakery cookies in the box. And they were the chocolate-dipped kinds that he liked so much too!

He reached his arms around Aziraphale's neck and hugged him tight. "Thank you thank you," he cooed sweetly. "I love you."

"Oh, I love you too," Aziraphale laughed softly, hugging him back. "Why don't we go inside and eat these right now with some milk, while I read you a story."

Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale shifted his arms before starting to walk towards the cottage again. The little demon should've been happier at the prospect of sweets, but his midsection still felt sick. He had ended up fine in the end, but today had brushed up too close against some painful memories. Nuzzling against his caregiver's chest, he tried to keep the sick feeling from getting worse. He didn't know if he'd be okay today. 

At the door of the cottage he felt the walking stop, and a soft pair of lips pressed against his forehead. 

"It's alright," Aziraphale whispered gently. "I'll take care of you."

Crowley relaxed a bit then, and snuggled further against his angel as they walked into the cottage. Aziraphale was right. Things could've turned out bad, but they didn't. Aziraphale shouldn't have been able to find him, but he did, and he brought him home. Crowley knew that he would always bring him home from now on. 

Yes, he was safe. He would always be safe now. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally it's an hour later than when I wanted to get this up because my body tried to shut down again. It seems like forces are conspiring against me to be sure that I can never upload when I want to upload, even if I have the next chapter all written by then. I hate this curse.  
> I thought I did well on this chapter but I don't think it's gonna get a lot of a attention. I mean that's what I get for disappearing for more than a month. Just a heads up it'll probably be a few weeks before the next one as well, hope you guys are all doing okay.


	21. Dreams (-?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm back babey
> 
> Certainly quite a break huh? Life has been uh, suckish for a while. But I'm gonna try to go back to regular updates now! 
> 
> Not like, regular regular. I won't promise anything consistent, but with the end of the first college semester coming up I'm at least going to try to write more often. So here's a shorter story to start with, if any of you are still interested in this sorry about the wait

The world was fading away. Slowly, sweetly. Aziraphale was trying to focus on that instead of letting his anxieties keep him from sleep. He looked down at the warm body in his arms. Crowley was asleep on his chest, his back rising and falling steadily under the angel's arm. He gazed down at his beautiful face, one side of it smushed against the fabric of his jumper. Strands of his lovely hair hung around his high cheekbones and soft eyelashes, shut with sleep. 

Most people might think that Crowley looked peaceful, but Aziraphale had known him for a long, intimate time, and could see the subtle twitches and frown in his expression. He didn't like thinking about what was happening to him in his dreams. 

Aziraphale sighed, and pulled the demon up a bit so he could press a kiss to the top of his head. This was no time to be getting all worked up. A soft, tiny Crowley had climbed onto him where he was reading on the sofa about fifteen minutes ago, with his blankie and sleepy eyes. The angel had proceeded to lie back against the cushions with him, pulled the blanket over them both and tried to get tired himself as Crowley drifted off in his arms.

He was nearly there, so he sighed against the wild hair tickling his nose, and wiggled into the sofa cushions a bit more. All he needed to do now was relax, stop thinking and wait for it to happen. Then he could slip into Crowley's dreams and keep him safe. His little one deserved it, after all, to at least be able to rest in his sleep. 

He had put the gramophone in the corner of the room on when he first felt Crowley's breathing slow down, and the soft sound of Gymnopedie No. 1 floated lazily through the air and helped Aziraphale feel even more loose and drowsy. Soon he was slipping off the deep end into slumber, as quietly as the mouse that lived in the walls. 

Regular dreaming had been an adjustment for Aziraphale. Sleep wasn't a hobby he had ever gotten himself regularly involved in like Crowley did, but he didn't regret it now. It was actually fairly pleasant, the break from his thoughts in either dark unconsciousness or hazy dreaming, eventually waking up feeling refreshed and reset in a way that couldn't be explained. And now that he wasn't actively working for any higher power, and living a comfortable life with his dearest friend, he didn't wake up feeling as though he had wasted valuable time. It's not like he had anything more important to do now than spend time with Crowley. 

Yes, and now especially, sleep was one of the most valuable ways he had to spend his time. After all, he had such an important task to do during the process, he could never think of it as wasted time again. No book he could be reading would ever be more important than keeping Crowley safe. 

Aziraphale felt himself blur back into a state of existence, blinking blearily with too many eyes. There was a lot involved in the dreaming process for him, and he thought he was rather getting the hang of it. It was a bit different than how any mortal creature dreams - for one thing, lucid dreaming seemed to come much more naturally to him and other ethereal (or occult) beings. Likely it had something to do with the actual power his thoughts and imagination possessed, and that existing metaphysically rather than physically was his more natural state. Well, he had gotten quite used to his physical body over the millennia, but one didn't just forget the way they were made. 

Aziraphale ruffled his feathers out and pulled his light in around himself. It wasn't always the case, but the fluidity of dreams allowed for him to slip into his true form if he so wished. It was just his mind after all, there was no need to keep up appearances. 

Though, no, not just _his_ mind. 

Aziraphale quickly scanned for the edge of Crowley's dreamscape, and sensed it nearly immediately. He fluttered over to the edge of his own dreams, where it was blurred in with his demon's due to proximity and frequent crossing over. In a short second, he willed himself forward and through the space into Crowley's head. 

He landed in the familiar mind with a flap of his wings, and immediately heard distressed crying. 

Aziraphale whirled around in an instant, the light of his halo pulsing to illuminate the hazy surroundings of the dream (already not a good sign, that it was dark enough to warrant such a need). He instantly spotted Crowley in the distance, curled in around himself, surrounded on all sides. 

Aziraphale had gotten more familiar with nightmares in the past few years than he ever had in the previous six thousand. In Crowley's mind, they formed into dark shapes before they took hold of him - jagged, sharp, the faint outlines of too many teeth and claws forming briefly before shifting into something else as they advanced on his little demon. Sometimes Aziraphale would see the shapes of messier wings on them as well, with far too many eyes and rings reminiscent of his own (he occasionally wondered if those traits had always been an option for them, or if it was a more recent development). It didn't matter to him, because if these coherent forms were still here then it wasn't too late to stop Crowley's trauma and imagination from twisting together into an actual nightmare. 

There were many of them tonight, but Aziraphale had done this enough times to know that he had nothing to fear, no reason to hesitate. And as Crowley continued to cry as they approached, he would not have done so anyways. With a single thought he shot forward, the fractured prisms of his essence burning bright with protective anger. 

The angel wasn't sure what gave him such control over the domain of Crowley's dreams as if they were his own, whether it was the will of Crowley himself or his own power, or some combination. But he was instantly in front of the demon, willing a sword into his hand with familiar flames that nicked at his primaries. His memories had power here too, more than some terrible traumas that wanted to keep hurting Crowley. 

It didn't make sense, he knew that, these shapes they always took. Perhaps it was Crowley's mind trying to visualize the pain, or a conscious effort to make it easier for him to come in and keep the bad dreams at bay. He knew that it still wasn't how dreaming was supposed to work. 

But he also knew that if he destroyed every scrap of darkness in Crowley's dreamscape, he wouldn't have any nightmares. So Aziraphale didn't think of anything past that as he raised his sword and cut through every terrifying thing he saw. They went down easily at the light of the flame, and the love of the angel that they couldn't touch. 

Aziraphale was swift and just, and soon there was not a single nightmare left. Just a blurry dream, the impression of being underwater from the unconscious state he was in, and still those familiar broken sobs. The angel quickly turned towards the source. 

Crowley dreamed in his true form here often as well (maybe it made things easier for him, considering how many bad memories were attached to his body). Where Aziraphale was supernova bright, Crowley had the yawning void of a black hole, with none of the ability to absorb the light that had been taken from him so long ago. The sharp shapes of him are long and stretched, like writhing coils, and the crimson burn of Hell permeates him at intervals along his essence and around his starbright eyes ( _cursed, says the demon - beautiful, says the angel_ ). This real shape of Crowley is as fluid as his mortal one, shifting and curling and bending at every second. He is the polar opposite of Aziraphale, and yet a mirror image of him, just as beautiful and terrible and unknowable- 

And a child. None of that mattered because right now he was also a child, scared and crying and starving for reassurance and love. 

Aziraphale own endless light warmed and softened with worry and affection, and the dream around them followed suit. He kneeled down (or, whatever the closest approximation is for a being without real knees), facing the little demon curled in on himself. He had already forgotten about his sword, and so it ceased to exist, his attention solely focused on Crowley as it was. He folded his wings back into a less intimidating spread of pale feathers, shifting their position to that a pair of arms would take to look open and inviting. 

_"Be not afraid,"_ his voice resonated through Crowley's mind. An old classic ingrained into Aziraphale, but one that was more suited to humans than demons. Though, this particular demon's cries did start to soften just a bit. 

_"Crowley, it's me,"_ the angel spoke to the trembling pile of darkness. _"Look up, dear! It's your Aziraphale."_

The sounds coming from Crowley finally quieted into what resembled whimpers, and the great big feeling of him loosened from where it had been tightened so painfully. It took a minute, but eventually Aziraphale spotted a single golden eye peeking out at him. The slit of a pupil widened just slightly at the sight of him.

He didn't have a mouth to smile with at the moment, but he didn't need one. He smiled with his too-much eyes, with his primaries brushing out towards Crowley, with the fractured light of him opening outwards like strong, warm arms that were waiting for an embrace. 

_"My love, I'm right here,"_ he said softly. _"You're safe now, I promise."_

All of a sudden Crowley was shifting towards him, crying out with more intent than what needed language. Aziraphale caught the antimatter mass of this impossible creature, weighed down by damnation and pain, and scooped him up as if he were light as a feather. 

He rose to full height and picked up the little thing with arms that he now had. In this dream world where things didn't have to match up with reality, Crowley was smaller than him, and it was easy to gather up the loose coils of his essence into a loved and protected void resting by his bosom. 

He squirmed and cried lightly in Aziraphale's arms still, shaken up from coming so close to having a nightmare. The angel shushed him and rocked him gently, softly kissing him everywhere he could reach despite his continued lack of lips. Even if that didn't work, he had more than enough metaphysical eyes for butterfly kisses, fluttering them open and closed against demon scales in the way he knew made Crowley giggle if he did it enough. 

As his little demon continued to quiet down, Aziraphale pet him gently over all the parts of him that had less triggers than the associated ones of his physical body. He stroked along dark scales, a beautiful tail, carded his fingers through the flaming mane at his nape. He paused at the edges of his lovely dark wings; those were still the most sensitive part of him, no matter what form he took. Aziraphale lifted his own wings to wrap around himself, covering them and serving to further cradle Crowley in comfortable softness. 

The angel opened enough of his eyes to look clearly at the lovely babe in his arms. He had calmed down enough that his body started snuggling closer to Aziraphale, eyes still teary as he gazed up at his caregiver while sniffling lightly. Aziraphale watched the end of his long self, brought to a slim tip like a snake's tail, as it moved from where it was coiled around his wrist. Crowley kept his soft eyes locked with the middlest of the angel's as he raised the tip up to his mouth and slid it in between his fangs, starting to suckle on it as if it was a thumb. 

Aziraphale quite literally _glowed_ with endearment, and hugged him even tighter to his celestial body, with no more protest than a gentle squeak from Crowley. 

_"You're so precious,"_ he cooed. _"Absolutely darling. Don't you worry now, I'm right here and I'm not leaving."_

Crowley cooed back softly, snuggling against him as he started to relax. Aziraphale kept stroking through thick embers as he hummed thoughtfully. 

_"Quite dull, isn't it?"_ he murmured, glancing around at the dream. The fear being eliminated hadn't made it any less faded and dim, even though the little demon it belonged to had begun to calm down. _"This isn't a very nice place to dream in, is it?"_

Crowley made a series of indecipherable noises in response, which would probably have translated to baby babbling if he had been in his body. Aziraphale kissed him. 

_"No, it's not at all,"_ he said softly. _"Let's have a happy dream, somewhere nice."_

Closing most of his eyes, he concentrated as well as he could through the inherent murkiness dreaming. He thought of a peaceful time, and a peaceful place. Even if he wasn't good enough at imagining new things to put in a dream, he was excellent at remembering. He dug into the memory, bringing it to the surface with as much detail as possible. 

The feeling of grass underfoot… a soft, prevalent floral scent… and a clear, calm day with the person he loves the most… 

Aziraphale opened his eyes and the landscape around them had shifted dramatically. He and Crowley were now on a hill overlooking a field, full of bright green grass and flowers of all kinds. The whole place still had the dull, hazy glow of an old memory about it, but the angel could still feel a gentle breeze blow through his feathers, the warmth of the sun shining down on him from a clear blue sky. 

He felt Crowley squeal and start to wriggle in his arms. A low and mirthful sound reverberated through him as he set him down carefully. As soon as he was free the demon shot down the hill, laughing and wiggling through the grass and into the flowers. 

Aziraphale smiled at the sight, and backed up to sit at the base of the tree on the hill. Just as he remembered it, it gave him the perfect amount of shade and a perfect view of the meadow, which currently included a serpent of a demon playing in it. 

The angel relaxed in the comforting conditions of his own memory, half-watching the dark shape of Crowley occasionally popping up through the many flowers. The flick of a tail there, the tip of a feathered wing flapping up over there, and the sound of happy giggles that just barely reached him on the wind, along with all the petals Crowley was knocking loose in his frolicking. 

Maybe there were more flowers here than the actual field he remembered had. That place may likely not even exist anymore, Aziraphale mused, so it hardly mattered. He might not have the talent for imagination that Crowley had, but he would use whatever he did possess to make his lovely demon as comfortable and happy as possible. 

He let his eyes slip close as he rested against the tree, the sensory and sound input from his memory of a dream more than enough to relax him. He continued to passively listen to the sounds from the meadow as the muted sensations surrounded him with a sense of detached peace. After however long it was though, he heard the sounds of rustling grass, getting closer, and closer - and stopped, right in front of him. Aziraphale lazily opened a few of his eyes. 

Crowley was there of course, smiling up at him, parts of him wiggling in contentment. In his hands was a ring of beautiful flowers. 

_"Hello darling."_

The little demon smiled wider and shifted closer to him, lifting up the flowers, which Aziraphale could now see was a carefully constructed flower crown. He watched as it was raised with black claws, sharp enough to slice him apart, and gingerly placed on top of his halo. 

It fit over it perfectly. 

_"Oh,"_ the angel gasped softly, some eyes examining the intricate weaving of the crown while the rest watched Crowley's adorable face gain a very pleased and proud expression. _"My love, it's beautiful. Thank you."_

Crowley let out a happy sound and proceeded to lie down in the grass, snuggling up against Aziraphale and resting his head in his lap. Aziraphale let out a soft, ringing-bell laugh in response. 

_"Yes child,"_ he crooned as he lifted a hand to the demon's mane. _"Rest now. I will stay with you until you awake."_

Crowley nodded sleepily and then went still, comfortable enough to rest now as Aziraphale ran gentle touches over them. The angel hummed to himself as gazed down at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, right there in his lap. 

With a sigh, he closed all of his eyes again, leaning back against the tree as he let his consciousness slip away again. Crowley was a warm constant against him. He would stay him right here until he was done sleeping, and then he would still be there when he woke up. The weight of Crowley would still be on him then, rested and calm and safe. 

Another breeze blew through the dream, as Aziraphale finally allowed himself to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I still can't believe this has gotten as much attention as it as. I've read more painful gomens fanfics since and made up agere AUs for them in my head, but I'll probably keep those stories to myself. Writing and publishing one fanfic of a fanfic was pushing my luck enough already


	22. Snow (-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhh, I did mean to have this up before Christmas but college has been so shitty, and then I got it done late yesterday but no one noticed so I'm trying again today, merry whatever

The pristine beauty of fresh, untouched snow, was in the opinion of one Principality Aziraphale among the most lovely sights on Earth. Even for the majority of history when winter was associated with disease and famine, the sight of the soft ice gently sparkling in the crisp sunlight was like nature's balm on the difficulties of the season (in regions where it was cold enough for such things of course). And in these modern times where buildings had evolved to the point where the cold was no longer an issue, the scenery could be properly appreciated. And so Aziraphale found himself in his armchair one bright afternoon, book in one hand and cup of tea in the other, right next to the window so that he could have a pleasant backdrop for his reading. 

With a thoughtful hum and a sip of his tea, he almost didn't notice the sound of quiet shuffling on the floor followed by a soft, almost inaudible gasp. 

Aziraphale peered up through the gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his notice, and was met with the sight of a little demon that was not there before. They were kneeling on the floor and wrapped in their blankie, right up by another window. Their hands were pressed against the glass, their face close too as they seemingly stared outside. The angel looked out of his own window and saw that more snow was falling from the sky, adding to the heavy blanket that was already covering everything. 

He turned his head back to Crowley and watched as they continued to gaze through the window. He worried about the cold seeping through the glass and into their thin skin, but they seemed to be unaffected by the chill. Their wild hair obstructed his direct view of their face, but in the faint reflection of the window he could make out serpentine eyes opened wide in something like interest or awe. 

With a soft, fond sigh, Aziraphale closed his book and set it down on the arm of the chair. He let out a small groan as he stood up and stretched, and Crowley's attention still remained glued to the window. The angel smiled and walked over to them, stopping to stand beside where they were kneeled.

The regressed demon did finally look up at him then, wide-eyed and adorable. They were still dressed in the cozy onesie they were wearing the night before (having gotten so relaxed from a warm bath that they slipped into littlespace), their hair messy as if they had just woken up and hadn't thought yet to miracle it to sorts. Aziraphale reached out to pet them their and they nuzzled a little into his hand. 

"Do you like the way the snow looks, darling?" he asked. 

Crowley nodded and turned back to the window, staring steadily out at the wintery landscape outside. They didn't protest as Aziraphale kept stroking their hair. 

"It's rather beautiful, isn't it?" he sighed. "Especially when we're all warm and cozy in here." 

Crowley hummed softly, continuing to gaze through the glass. The angel continued to pet them for a minute before leaning down to give the top of their head a kiss, then he turned back to his chair and his book. 

But before he could take more than a step, he was stopped by a whining sound and something tugging at his coat. Aziraphale turned back around and saw Crowley looking up at him and with a pouty expression on their face. 

"What is it, my dear?" he asked, alarmed. "Is something wrong?" 

Crowley continued to whine at him as their gaze turned back to the window, still tugging on the end of his house coat. Their caregiver kneeled down next to them, wrapping an arm around them loosely. 

"Is it about the snow?" he asked gently. "Are you worried about the cold, do you feel sick? Do you need it to be warmer in here?" 

Crowley just whined loudly and kept tugging him in the direction of the window, their eyes darting between him and the view outside the glass. 

"My love, use your words my snakelet," Aziraphale said while rubbing soothing circles into Crowley's back. "Whatever could you want darling - I mean, I would think that you want to go outside, but that's not it of course." This last sentence was accompanied by a joking lilt of voice from the angel. 

Except the little demon at his side started squealing and cooing, vigorously nodding and pulling on his coat. Aziraphale felt his brows scrunch in confusion. 

"Or you…do?"

Crowley squeaked and smiled at him, banging their hand against the window. Aziraphale felt no less befuddled. 

"You...want to go outside?" he asked faintly. "In this weather?" 

Crowley nodded again, before pressing back up against the window and cooing at the outside view. 

Aziraphale still couldn't comprehend what they were apparently telling him. If there was one indisputable fact that he knew about Crowley, it was that they absolutely  _ despised  _ the cold. Being cold-blooded did not serve them well in chiller temperatures, often leaving them sluggish and aching, and he could remember many a winter after their transfer to Europe that they had chosen to sleep through, instead of staying awake and enduring the snow and frost. 

Even in the most recent decades they preferred to spend the colder seasons huddled indoors, often refusing to take even a step outside if there was snow on the ground. Thus the seemingly sudden shift from their total avoidance of cold weather to actually  _ wanting  _ to step outside for it was baffling to Aziraphale. 

"But, darling-" he tried, "Why would you want to go outside when it's so cold?" 

"Snow!" 

It was the first word that Crowley had said all day and it caught him off guard, slipped from their lips without a thought as they kept gazing through the window. 

It still didn't make more sense. Snow was among Crowley's most hated features of winter, which he knew very well from all of the times the demon had complained to him about it. It was cold, wet, and made driving their car much more difficult. Aziraphale was sure as anything, they hated snow. 

He glanced back down at where the demon was still pressed against the glass, wide-eyed and excited, then looked out at the same sight they were seeing. His expression softened at seeing how lovely everything looked, thick piles of untouched snow sparkling in this mid-afternoon snow. The thick white blanket of it looked fluffy and inviting, practically begging to be jumped in and played with. 

Crowley hates snow…but, children love it. They love to see it piled high enough in the morning to get them a day off from schoolwork, rush out of bed to bundle up so that they can head outside to run and jump and play in it. They love to build things with it and make impressions in it no matter how cold they get, and they love to go back inside afterwards to a warm blanket and a hot cup of cocoa. 

The angel gazed out through the window again. Crowley was still Crowley, but at the moment they were a child as well. And that child seemed to be overriding their hatred of snow with the desire to have that beloved childhood experience of a snow day. He could bet that their more demonic nature was also itching to ruin the unmarred beauty of all that untouched snow. He could almost understand the desire even if he couldn't personally empathize. 

Suddenly Aziraphale felt a weight against his front, and looked down. Crowley had turned around and pressed up against his chest, and was currently looking up at him with their best, more adorable pouty face. A small whine escaped through their bottom lip as their golden eyes sparkled up at him. 

The idea of them going out in the cold was very worrying to Aziraphale, but… he supposed as long as he watched over them and made sure they were safe, it would be fine. 

Besides, he wasn't in the habit of denying little Crowley anything they wanted, and likely couldn't even if he wanted to with how they were presently making him melt. 

"Alright, alright," he conceded to that pleading little face, "you can play in the snow. But you must wear many layers and come back inside before you get too cold."

In an instant the pout of Crowley's lips stretched into a grin, and they hugged Aziraphale tight and giggled against his chest. 

"Tha'k 'ou," came out muffled from his shirt, and he chuckled and hugged them back. 

In just a minute Aziraphale quickly got together a pile of winter clothing, and spent the next ten or so minutes carefully dressing Crowley with as many layers as he thought they needed to stay warm and dry outside. He started with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of thermal pants, before adding a sweater, fluffy trousers, a light jacket, an insulated winter coat, and thick boots followed by a pair of waterproof trousers. 

"Mommyyyyyy," Crowley whined as he wrestled a knitted hat over their thick curls. "I'm gonna be like Randy!" 

"Who?" Aziraphale asked with a puzzled frown as he pulled out a red scarf. 

"The, the brother in-" Crowley flapped their arms as they struggled to remember what they were referencing. "-in the movie, the movie with Christmas and the boy wants a little gun!" 

"How dreadful," the angel muttered as he started to wrap the scarf around his little one's neck and face. He had a vague inkling of what they were talking about, but he had to admit that some of the many holiday movies they had shown him these past winters had escaped his attention. 

"Not to worry my dear," he said with a kiss after he finished wrapping them in the scarf. "We're nearly done, just one last thing." 

The 'last thing' is a pair of thick black gloves, which Crowley let Aziraphale slide carefully onto their spindly hands. Once that's done he stepped back and looked over his work; the demon looked as layered as they could be while still maintaining locomotion, the only skin still showing what was around their eyes. 

"Oh!" Aziraphale clapped at a sudden thought, startling Crowley as he walked over to the nearest drawer in the room. He opened it and pulled out one of many pairs of sunglasses that his partner had stashed around their home. 

"Can't forget these," he said, walking back over to his little demon and slipping them over their eyes. "It's rather bright out, we don't want your lovely eyes getting hurt."

Crowley made a noise that was muffled by the scarf, and looked pointedly over at the front door. 

"Yes my darling, we're all ready now," Aziraphale assured, figuring they were wearing enough layers to keep them warm for at least an hour. He reached out and took their gloved hand in his. "Let's go, you'll overheat if you stay in here like that."

Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale led them to the door, opening it and stepping into the thick snow outdoors. It was certainly quite cold, but not as bad as he had feared, which he likely owed to the warm sunlight. The cars that plowed the streets hadn't even reached their little one up here, so it was an untouched landscape as far as his human eyes could see. 

Crowley was turning their head this way and that. Aziraphale couldn't see their face anymore, but could feel them practically vibrating with excitement through the hand still in his. He gave it a squeeze to keep them in place for just another second. 

"Now remember my little one," he said firmly, "you must not stay out here any longer than what your body can handle, and as soon as you feel too cold you must tell me and go inside, do you understand?" 

Crowley nodded rapidly, and Aziraphale sincerely hoped that they were telling the truth as he squeezed their hand again before letting go. As soon as he did they shot off like a rocket, bounding down the porch steps and jumping face first into the snow. 

The angel yelped and moved to go help them, but they immediately picked their face up and started giggling, before crawling off further. 

Aziraphale let out a sigh, and figured he could worry just a bit less. Crowley could take care of themselves after all, they had done so for thousands of years, but he still preferred to be extra careful when they were regressed. 

He watched them for a few more seconds before making a decision, and with a snap he was now dressed in cold-appropriate attire as well, from fluffy white earmuffs all the way down to boots with fuzzy insides. With another quick miracle to clear snow off of one of the porch chairs and to bring a book into his hands, Aziraphale sat down facing the front lawn, where Crowley was currently throwing snow around while laughing. He smiled warmly at the sight, and opened his book back to where he had left off, confident that he could read and keep a responsible eye on his demon at the same time. 

Crowley spent the next hour playing in the snow, first making many snow angels (or rather snow devils, since they added horns to the heads of each one) before making a large snowman. Aziraphale watched as they huffed while pushing around bigger and bigger snowballs, and wondered if he should help when tried to stack them on top of each other. But they proved strong enough to lift up the heavy snowballs, and he went back to reading as they looked for things to decorate the man-sized snowman with. 

The only time he ever actually got up from his chair was when Crowley started throwing snowballs at him. At first he tried chiding them sternly, but they just cackled and continued to throw expertly crafted snowballs at him. Eventually he gave in to what they probably wanted from him, closing his book and setting in down, before standing up with a mound of snow in his own hands. The demon squealed with delight as their caregiver ran towards them, running away while throwing more snowballs at him as he did the same. Unfortunately for Aziraphale though, it seemed that Crowley had already thought ahead and constructed a snow fort, which they hid behind and throwed more snow at him from. The angel had ended up quite caught up in the fun by this point, and responded to their assault by dodging most of the balls they threw and throwing back his own perfectly round snowballs whenever their head popped up above the snow fort. 

Aziraphale actually found himself laughing from it all, until one of his snowballs smacked Crowley square in the face. He yelled and ran over to them, nearly in tears by the time he reached them, only to find them laughing in the snow. 

He did stop the game there though, and went back to his book. Crowley just stuck their tongue out at him and started stacking more snow onto their fort. 

When Aziraphale looked up from his book again, it was to a sky with an orange tint from the sun that was starting to set. He knew that it being winter meant that didn't mean it was quite getting late, but he and Crowley had certainly been outside for a while now at least. He looked out to the front yard, the previously smooth layer of snow now an uneven mess of footprints and snow  angels demons and divots where snow had been taken out to be piled up somewhere else. In the middle of it all he saw Crowley, who he noticed was missing their hat, and subsequently noticed that this was likely because they were currently placing it atop the head of their snowman. 

"Crowley!" he called out to them, deciding it would be safest to bring them inside now. "That's enough for one day, it's time to go inside now!" 

"Just a sec!" they shouted back to him while they unwrapped their scarf. Aziraphale pushed himself up from his chair, sending his book back inside with a thought before walking down the porch steps towards them, just in case they would try to be difficult. 

By the time he had gotten over to Crowley they had finished wrapping their scarf around the snow man's neck. Aziraphale felt warmer than he had all day when they turned to him and smiled. 

"He's dressed now," they said proudly. The angel had to let out a chuckle from how cute they were. 

"Let's head inside now, my love," he said. 

"One more thing." Crowley reached up and pulled the dark sunglasses off of their face. They faced them towards the snowman and pushed the earpieces into the sides of its head, resting the bridge on its carrot nose so that the lenses covered up two stone eyes. 

"There!" Crowley pulled back to examine their work, resting their hands in their hips. "Now he looks cool!" 

"Yes, he does." Aziraphale smiled warmly at his little demon and opened his arms. As soon as they noticed they smiled back and walked right into them.

As soon as he had them wrapped in a hug Aziraphale could tell that they were starting to shiver a little, the lack of their hat and scarf exposing them to more cold on top of how long they had been playing in the snow. He rocked with them for a minute while rubbing their back through layers of thick fabric. 

"Ready to go inside now?" he murmured into their hair. 

Crowley hummed and nodded against his neck, then squealed in surprise when their caregiver immediately shifted to lift them in his arms. He started to carry them back to the cottage, while they kicked their legs a little and kept their face buried in his warm coat. 

As soon as Aziraphale had gotten them inside and closed the door behind them he set Crowley down, fretting and fussing over them as he began to strip them of their many layers. 

They let him take off the gloves first, which had gotten nearly soaked from how much snow Crowley had handled with them. Their hands felt cold when he freed them of the fabric, and he kissed them while having to resist the urge to simply miracle warmth back into them. 

Next off were the boots caked in snow, set aside on a towel that had been prepared earlier, soon joined by the other snow-covered items of Crowley's outfit to dry away from the furniture. The top couple of layers had gotten snowy and wet, but Aziraphale was pleased to see that the layers closer to Crowley's skin had remained mostly warm and dry. 

As soon as they were down to just the thermal pants and long shirt, Aziraphale pulled a fresh jumper over their head (one of his own actually, so it was quite adorably big on them) before wrapping them up in a quilt and picking them up. He walked into the sitting room and set them down on the sofa, fussing over them for another second before going to start the fireplace. 

"Mama…" the angel heard from behind him as he struck a match. 

"Just a few minutes, my darling," he assured them as the logs under the chimney caught fire. "I'm going to make you a nice warm drink and then we can cuddle."

Once he was confident that the fire was warm enough, Aziraphale stood up and walked over to the kitchen, shedding his own layers of winter wear as he went. Once in their cozy kitchen he set about making a quick batch of hot cocoa, enough for two mugs, which he filled with cocoa and whipped cream and brought out to the sitting room. 

Crowley was still curled up on the sofa where he had left them, eyes fixed to the TV which was now turned on. As soon as he settled beside them, they glanced up at him and smiled. 

"Here we are dear," Aziraphale said with a smile of his own, handing them one of the mugs. Thin fingers poked out from the quilt and wrapped around it, bringing it up to Crowley's face where they sniffed it and sighed. 

"Do you feel warm now?" Aziraphale asked, blowing on his own cocoa lightly. The little demon nodded as they brought their mug to their lips and settled against their angel's side. 

"Good." Aziraphale wrapped an arm around them before lifting his own mug to sip at his cocoa. "Did you have fun today?" 

"Mmhm," Crowley mumbled as they finished their sip, then turned their head and smiled softly up at him. "Thank you mummy."

Aziraphale pulled them close so he could kiss their forehead. "It was no trouble at all, my darling, I'm just happy you had a good time. I love you."

"I love you too."

Crowley snuggled even closer against him, and Aziraphale sighed in contentment as he glanced up at the television, which seemed to be playing a Christmas movie. It looked oddly familiar to him. 

"It's the little gun one!" Crowley exclaimed, apparently having caught his expression as they pointed excitedly at the screen. 

"How utterly dreadful," he murmured jokingly against his mug, resolving to actually pay attention to the movie this time if it would make his favorite person in existence happy. He felt warm and soft, being settled with cocoa and a snuggly demon more than enough to keep away the cold outside. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope anyone who read this enjoyed it, go snuggle under some blankets and drink hot cocoa, merry Christmas and a happy soon death of 2020


End file.
